


Soulbound

by Pluviona



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Bill Cipher is a dick, Deals, Demons, Eventual romance (kinda), F/M, Fanfiction, Gravity Falls - Freeform, I should really update the description because wow, Manipulation, Psychic Abilities, Reader Insert, Reader is tired of shit but Bill won't leave her alone, Self-Harm, Slow Plot Build, Souls, Violence, i can't tag, sacrifices are made, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:30:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluviona/pseuds/Pluviona
Summary: There was never an explanation. (Y/n) was born such a strange person, and for the sake of her social reputation, she was forced to pretend she wasn't. If she did not dream of symbols and the future, she was exploring a melancholy world of grey. Despite being unasked for, these gifts came with consequences. An entire box of coded letters, and her birthmark that burned and ached as she entered her new home in the woods. Fate for (Y/n) and the people around her is about to change. The choices are hers to make and the adventure is drastic. If only she knew fate would leave her soulbound to Bill Cipher. (Bill Cipher x Reader)Note: Also posted in my Quotev account @.Pluviona





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you've seen this story on Quotev, don't worry, I'm not plagiarizing. I'm only reposting this story from my Quotev account (@.Pluviona). Updates will be published on both sites. If you see this work outside of Quotev or Archive under a different user than @.Pluviona please notify me immediately.

Soulbound

If there was anything (Y/n) could have in this world, it was the chance to dream.

To be more specific, she wanted a break.

Consider it ridiculous, but whenever she listened in on someone who described a wild dream full of vivid colors and sensations, she couldn't help but feel just a slight tang of jealousy. They had what she wished for, after-all.

All (Y/n) had the ability to do was wander alone in her empty house, her house that was scaled in diverse shade of _grey_. From ceilings, paintings, and floorboards, there was not even the slightest hint of something more. More importantly, there was no thrilling adventure, nothing unpredictable, no colors, the dreams were so still and lonely that at times it felt void of emotions. But she did discover pain was possible in her dream-world when she accidentally slipped in the kitchen.

Bruising on her legs had proved that she should be especially careful in the dream world. If she was injured there, she would be injured in reality.

In many ways, (Y/n) found ways to keep herself busy. Taking a bath, television, painting, a second round of dinner, anything that would soak up her time. Not that most had any true effects. (Y/n) quickly realized this when she noticed her shampoo rations was not going to waste after each dream. She also found that reading ordinary books was pointless, the worlds were a scrambled, decipherable mess of glowing symbols. What wouldn't give her a headache was the letters left so generously on her pillow-- not that those were any good either. The letters didn't exactly glow, but they were arranged strangely.

The letters might of been the only true things that kept her sane. Though, she tried it all; burning, tearing, flushing it down the pipes. No matter what she did, they always manage to reappear in perfectly crisp condition when she woke up. Each night, the letters taunted her, slowly adding to their own pile, waiting to be un-coded.

And as letters go, they were all signed. By who? She still doesn't know. Still, she took this as a sign.

A sign that perhaps she wasn't alone in this dull dream-world.

(Y/n)'s determination was from Hell, and she was set on figuring out what those letters said... As soon as she manages to find the code. For now, she figured a shoe-box will be a perfect place for them.

Despite the boredom, she never really gathered up the courage to go outside her house.

Every time she peered outside of her window, there was only and endless landscape of white. No trees, no sky, no grass, nothing. (Y/n) was almost ashamed to admit that this _terrified_ her, she couldn't help but ask: _"Why would my mind create all of this but not bother with a yard?" _

To put it simply, if she took a single step outside, it was almost as if she were to disappear along with the white, falling, never waking up and returning back into her own world.

But at the moment, she _wasn't_ dreaming in her world of grey as much as she opted for it at this moment.

No, she was seeing something far more important. Something that made her more confused than it did nervous.

_Glowing flashes of yellow_

_ A circle, no-- a wheel_

_ A star,_

_ Then a tree,_

_ Some sort of hand,_

_There's too many symbols,_

In her sleep, her brows furrowed together in frustration. No amount of music, harsh roads, or gorgeous scenery could wake (Y/n) from her dream now-- not that she was so close.

_Focus on something else. Focus. Focus._

In these situations, there was only so much that she could control. Images and objects passed by so quickly, it was on the sole responsibility of (Y/n) on where she decided her attention should go. There was no re-wind button. No do-overs. She either does decent work and interprets the vision correctly, or there was an error in her judgement and something goes wrong. It was unfair pressure on anyone, especially to a child, but over the years she's managed with it. Through embarrassing mistakes, of course.

_There's still too much going on, find basic shapes_

_ Three lines. Triangle._

_ Hat. _

Details are important, but at the moment she didn't have the time to examine it further. For now, it was a simple hat. Her heart gave out in a light, irregular patter, beating faster than it should have. The last time this had happened-- her visions, she missed something important, and because of that she managed to fuck-up a relationship or two. Needless to say, she's been out of practice for a while.

For now, (Y/n) can only trust in her judgement this time.

_Arms. Legs. And..._

_ Oh god,_

_ **The eye.**_

A silent gasp left (Y/n)'s throat; her eyes open and her mind alert. There was another jump in her heart, but the first thing she was really faced with was her own reflection in the bug-stained window. _Funny_. She rubbed her eyes and took another long look out of the car, ignoring her family's chatter for now. From buildings and busy streets to a quiet forest, she can only assume they were already in Gravity Falls.

_"I can look at the trees later, I need to write down what I saw"_ she thought,

Her dream journal was still wedged tightly between her thighs, exactly where it was left. That was a good sign. Not that she expected her privacy to be invaded, but a curious little brother sharing a back seat can lead to irritation.

Then again, Nathan is the only one who knows about it all and believes her. (Y/n) figured it was just his young-mind, but in some ways she was glad not having to keep the secret all to herself. She would have exploded by now. She slid the journal out from her own hold and patted around the seats, pushing away the extra blankets and empty bags of chips. _Where was that pen?_

"Hey, you woke up! Finally" out of peripheral vision, she noticed Nathan looking over excitedly to her, more than likely antsy to step out and stretch from the lengthy ride, she wouldn't blame him. "Uh-huh" she leaned forward and began running her hand along the car platform, nothing more than her unfinished soda and satchel. "We saw a really cool lake, there was deers!" (Y/n) doesn't hate her brother, Hell, most of the time she was raising him. But at the moment, she didn't feel like playing along.

"Hey, Nate" her own personal nickname for the six year-old "have you seen my pen?"

His brown-- nearly blond hair was a mess, (Y/n) made a mental note to herself to fix it before they headed into town. 

"Yeah, I used it to draw" 

She held her hand out, "can I see it, please? It's important" she refrained from adding _"I need to put this on paper while it's still burned in my memory and talking is a distraction"_ but, showing the kid manners now was going to save (Y/n) loads of frustration down the road.

He didn't say anything more, only unhooking the cap from a thin stack of papers. From a small glance, (Y/n) saw what he had meant by drawing.. All they really were was trees, people, and what appeared to be his own version of their new house. Lines shaky and crooked from the road, obvious run-overs with the ink, and a sort of flat dimension to it all. Its what was considered normal quality for a child's drawing.

What disturbed her the most was how the black ink made the forest look so... _Eerie_.

As soon as (Y/n) felt the pen in her hand, she flipped open her journal and turned to the nearest blank page. Sketching was an overstatement, she quickly scribbled on what she could remember. The more time she spent getting every single detail right, the more the memory of the vision would just fade away. A large, uneven wheel. A tree-- she didn't care what kind it was, but it looked like a pine. A star. And a hand. 

She pressed her lips together; it was only then that she realized how difficult this vision was going to be to understand.

Moving on, she focused on the center. It was almost embarrassing how sloppy and slanted her triangle turned out to become, needless to say it was harder than she figured it would be. She knew that for some strange reason, the triangle had a pair of arms and legs. It was only disappointing that she managed to forget their position, so for now it was skipped. Her hands were brief with the sketch of it's hat, but her fingers nearly froze with the last detail...

The eye. The one, single eye.

(Y/n) squirmed in her seat, wanting to remind herself that this was only a dream. A phrase that normal people tells themselves after waking-up from something unnerving. Sadly enough, this _wasn't_ that case. 

Still, she did what she must to finish the task. A reasonably sized oval with a cat-like pupil in it's center was more than enough. There was an uneasy bubble beginning to form in the pits of her stomach, threads inside of her mind had begun to tangle, and the more she stared into the sharp pupil, the more her thoughts ran blank. In the end there was nothing more to make about the drawing other than it practically oozed of menace 

In the most insane way, it also gave a sense of support.. To which, would only drive (Y/n) to madness if she focused her attention on the symbol for too long.

Capping the pen, she closed her journal and sighed, closing her eyes in an attempt to rest her over-stimulated mind.

_"Maybe I'm just over-reacting, it's probably some weird logo"_ she reasoned with herself.

"Hey, sleepy-head. Don't think about another nap, we're already in town" there was an excited tone to her fathers voice, bless his heart but (Y/n) believed Oscar was far too optimistic at times. Like father, like son.

Curious now, she peered outside. To say this was a small town was an overstatement, at this rate the teen was almost sure that this could have easily been considered a village. At best, she only managed to catch a brief glimpse of a few buildings-- a church, diners, grocery-store, library, and an antique shop. But by far, the tallest building she saw was the vandalized water-tower in the distance.

Despite the townsfolk minding their own business in the chills of autumn, (Y/n) couldn't help but find this place too quiet, too small. Other than a few pedestrians, the roads were practically left bare. At the very least, traffic was never going to be a concern.

Her thumb pressed against the home button for a split second, releasing when her screen came to life with the time. They were twenty minutes from noon. Her battery had slowly drained to the 17%. Not only that, but she also noticed her poor battery has suffered during the trip, there was a slight stickiness-- more than likely from her soda.

"Gross" she whispered, making an attempt to rub off the substance with her hoodie sleeve. 

She figured that all the other kids her age were in school at the moment, something she should be attending in the upcoming week. Speaking of which, there was only _one_ high-school in this town. It made sense, once she had realized the size of Gravity Falls, though she came here under the impression that she would have a choice to where she would be spending the rest of her high-school years.

That quickly punched a hole in her mood.

(Y/n) had never meant to be negative. If there were any upsides to this move, she would have said the fresh air, gorgeous scenery, and a new start. After a particular incident in school where she had misread a vision and given wrong advice, it goes without say that her social reputation was not in the best condition. This went despite how hard she tried to keep it together, never telling a single soul about her abilities or her dreams-- rather, lack thereof. 

In the end, she couldn't help but kiss her teeth bitterly,

"So we're seriously staying in this dump?"

* * *

Packing belongings and cramming them into a U-Haul trailer was brutal. It took hours of effort and nearly killed (Y/n) in the process, the amount of times her family went over the check-list was ridiculous.

And having to unload it all hours later was Hell.

There was so much more (Y/n) would have done had she been given the chance. Though, there was no use in groaning out complaints to her parents, they did not bother to listen, it simply had to be done. If she were a few years younger, she would be right at Nate's side, exploring just the outside perimeter of the house, flipping over rocks, rushing in and out of their new home, and gazing longingly into the endless woods. 

Her (e/c) eyes reflected joyfully on her brother and acknowledged that she would rather have him prodding his finger in the ground and searching for bugs instead of lugging around heavy boxes.

Labeled, heavy boxes that are piled together and managed to survive _some_ damage from the road.

(Y/n) dug her hand under her layers of warm clothing and scratched the birthmark just inches below her collar-bone and at the start of her breasts. If she could, (Y/n) would often try to conceal her mark if the situation ever called for it. Not that it was particularly hideous or sprouting some sort of nastiness. It was simply.. Unusual. In short, she never knew how to explain it to others.

It was in the form of a triangle, after-all. Still, every since they've arrived in town, there was a certain itch-- almost a burn that just would not go away.

Regardless of the season, (Y/n) only assumed that it was a result of a bug bite. An estimated guess was a few left-over mosquitoes, they wouldn't be a problem a few months later. She believed this, despite seeing no physical bump for evidence.

She dug her nails deep into her (s/c) skin until there were only markings left behind, and with the sheer force of her will, she allowed her hands to pull away from the own heat of her body and lean over to grab onto another box labeled, "Kitchen."

With a small grunt, she hauled the box up the white, wooden porch. The stairs couldn't help but croak under her pressure. The house itself wasn't in poor condition; a few remodeling's needed to be made, and was in a dire need of a fresh coat of paint. The two stories of eggshell-blue were cracked and practically _begging_ to be chipped off by (Y/n)'s fingernails. The window sills had suffered mild damage, some of the wooden structure had gone missing and was left with rugged edges and an uneven platform. The glass had become filthy, and clouded with a thick coat of weathering and dust.

Something that she reminded herself to wipe her own window later.

From a distance, she had also noticed that the gutters were being filled with colored leaves, broken old twigs, and bare branches. The stack of it all piled fairly high, and there was no chance that she would be left with the task of cleaning that.

There was no fencing left behind, but she imagined it would be a hassle to clear all of these birch and pine trees only to "secure" their privacy. Not that there was neighbors near them, if anything, the house was nestled quite a way into the tangle of woods. Estimated, it would take a journey of ten solid minutes to reach town on foot, and that was if only one would follow the gravel path that lead directly into their driveway. In other words, there was no need for fence.

The teen hoped her parents saw this and left the forest be. And guiltily, she would admit that the scenery was a nice view, she opted for a walk, perhaps when she didn't have to keep a close eye on Nate.

(Y/n) slipped past the open door and into the house. There was some remaining furniture and paintings left behind from previous owners. A torn, deep gray couch, exposing the stained, white stuffing and a crooked, framed painting of a deer. Both of which, must have been there for some time because dust had settled in thickly over the years. But she was not willing enough to sit down on old couches-- those needed to be tossed out. The space was so vast, plain, and empty, (Y/n) could hear the echo of her own feet as she walked towards the kitchen. 

There was an apparent pattern with the color schemes, the interiors were either coated with a dull, drowsy blue or a creamy white. Basic colors, yes. But (Y/n) is hoping, and willing enough to press for the freedom to decorate her room however she pleased-- including the wall color. But, she safely assumed there would be hardly any argument as Claire and Oscar were not too fond of the life-less blue either.

Relieved, she sighed and placed the box on the kitchen counter. The glass inside had rattled and clanked against each-other, though thankfully enough there was no sounds of shattering. She picked at the edge of the tape and began to peel back the sticky strip of security, it had also taken some of the wrinkled cardboard along with it. Unfolding the flaps, (Y/n) reached into the box and began setting the smooth class cups onto the counter. 

_"The quicker you get this done, the quicker you'll go to sleep"_ she reminded herself, it never gave her the surge of energy she needed, but it kept her from leaving the things where they were and calling it a day.

"Eugh... No way," she muttered, rotating a single glass cup in her hands, tall and slowly transcending from clear to a dark black, the rim had chipped and left behind a rugged edge. These were one of her favorite cups, mainly because of the subtle ombre. There was still a set of pieces remaining in the box and a few lined up in the counter-- though it was still mildly disappointing. This also meant that there was shards of sharp glass somewhere in the box and blindly rummaging her hand into the sea of styrofoam was just pure and simple idiocy. 

With the kitchen window being hinged open for the purpose of ventilating the stuffy, nasty air. Something much more than a bitter breeze had also woven it's way into her new home. No doubt that it was still completely powerless. But, before his imprisonment, he managed to store enough energy towards the right place, it's only use now was to send a message. Hell, this creature that had been waiting, _doting_ on her arrival. It was only a treat that she managed to come to him now.

_ "But it would be fun to watch~" _a silent, whisper spoke near her ear. The voice was chalky and light, playful hints were embedded deep into it's tone, but from a slight observation it seemed... Exhausted, tired enough for his words to seem croaked. A wave of discomfort crawled up her spine and lingered on her shoulder. This was something she would have missed completely had there been someone else in the room. And most definitely not something that she had expected.

She sucked in a large breath of sock. Out of pure instinct, she quickly twirled around to see something-- anything, but there was nothing other than a bare, white kitchen.

The nerves around her fingers froze, her heart beating it's way up to her throat and throbbing with a icy-hot sensation. There was no audio, it all had been blurred with the exception of her pulsing, rushing blood inside of her ears. Eyes wide in panic, focused and scanning every inch of the room. The window, the walls, the counter, the ceiling. All was still, she was alone. She hardly took any notice to the glass slipping past her numb digits and was only brought back into reality when the cup hit the floor and shattered, scattering into pieces.

"Oh, fuck!" she hissed and stepped a few feet away.

"What happened?" another voice near the entryway, this time Nate's.

(Y/n) crouched down and quickly began to gather whatever she could, thankfully enough there was nothing smaller than her fingernail. She glanced up at her younger brother, eye-brows furrowed tightly together, her pulse still racing and the chill never seeming to want to leave her body. _"It had to be him"_ she thought, there was no one else who could of been inside this house.

There was many things (Y/n) thought her brother would pull, but she never expected this.

"That wasn't funny, Nate!" her mind was spinning, she needed sleep.

He could nearly flinched at her words, "what are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" frustrated now, she pointed towards the mess "look what you made me do! Hope that joke was worth it" carefully, she carried the shards into her hand and dumped them into the nearby trash-bin.

Still, the argument continued "you're the one who dropped it, not me!" there was a slight waiver to his voice.

She huffed; upset, but knowing when enough was enough. She figured that the last thing she needed was a weeping, wailing little brother who pinned the entire thing on her. 

"Yeah, whatever" she grumbled, slipping her way past Nate and storming her way up the dark oak stairs. Six in total, some cried under the weight of her entire body. She continued on making her way down the corridor, ignoring the extra rooms and storage spaces. Nothing was catching her attention enough to distract her, but at the very least her heart was no longer pounding louder than storms. When she reached the hall, she reached for the door-knob and give it a sharp twist-- going inside her own room.

Firmly, she shut herself inside and locked it.

She didn't even realize she was holding her breath until she sighed.

(Y/n) took another brief look around. The room was nothing special, though she did manage to snatch the second-biggest room. She argued that it was only fair, a six year-old would not be needing this much space and ruin it, it was a heated debate into turning it into a guest room-- but finally seeing how small the town actually was, (Y/n) scored herself a pretty fair deal if anyone anyone had asked. 

As expected, the majority of what was left behind was bare. Other than a nightstand in semi-good condition and a window-seat facing the thick, surrounding woods. There wasn't much to look at. However, she already began making plans for decoration, the creamy-white paint on her walls had to go. What she would replace them with she still didn't know, but warmer colors would seem far more welcoming in her mind.

It wouldn't be another hour or so before another U-Haul truck came in with the rest of their furniture. Which was a considerable amount of sour luck, considering she planned on taking a light sleep.

She would simply have to do without it, but she refused to sleep on the cold, wooden floor. She slipped off her foot-ware and shivered when her bare feet made contact with the ground, carpet might of been a large pain in the ass, but there sure as hell wouldn't be problems such as this. She made her way over to her box and unfolded the wings, pulling out a poorly folded blanket and a throw-pillow.

_"Perfect"_ she thought.

And eagerly, she nestled herself into the window-seat. Laying down, she adjusted the pillow behind her neck, in the most comfortable position she could get and draped the fluffed sheet over her body. She turned to her side and faced the window, just out of pure amusement. The seat was decently sized, but not enough for her to stretch her legs completely, but if she curled herself into a fetus-like form then this shouldn't matter. 

A part of her became nervous at the thought of another vision. 

In the moment, however. All she wanted to do was watch as the birch branches swayed in the autumn breeze. The pine-trees would also be a lovely sight in the winter.

(Y/n) still hadn't given much of a thought to the wheel, whatever it meant or was supposed to signify, it made her emotionally confused. There was a sense of peace, but the danger of the unknown was all too present.

She closed her eyes, relaxing every muscle in her body and slowing her breathing.

All she ever wished for was to dream, something unpredictable, unable to make logical sense of what happened when she woke up. She could admit it, she was jealous. In a way, she was grateful for her so called gifts. As life went on, these abilities began to seem more like a responsibility. It was unfair and a heavy secret... All for the sake of what?

Chances were, she was about to enter her landscape of gray.

She was fine with this, as long as there was not another vision-- she could only handle one at a time.

_ "I guess we'll just have to see"_

Slowly after that final thought, the world around her began to sink into a numbing black.

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To which, Reader begins to involve herself in something she really, really shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly the way this story is structured is a MESS, if you haven't noticed, you most definitely will soon

Soulbound

There was something that had to be known about the dream-realm, changes have always been incredibly rare.

Despite the laws of science being constantly disobeyed, things had never been altered further in her life. Especially when it came to details such as time and words. The clock handles ran backwards swiftly and the letters of words had the tenancy to scramble every couple of minutes, not to mention they glow too brightly. She would admit that it was no fun having some these factors at a disadvantage, but imagining both realms being exactly the same was enough to drive anyone mad.

And no matter where she went, (Y/n) would always be brought back into her bed, in her void and lifeless home until she woke up again. 

Of course, she had her fair amount of fun experimenting with this. Leaving books where they weren't meant to be left, shifting, rotating, moving and even breaking items to see how it would have an effect on both words. She found that whatever was left in reality would remain the same in her dreams, this seemed to be the only consistent law. The only thing that contradicted this was her occasional mystery letter, it was the only thing that managed to bring itself to life.

(Y/n) eventually learned that lesson when she left the faucet on an running in her own world and was not able to successfully turn it back off from her dream-realm. Needless to say, being forced to mop and soak up the miniature lake she created with rags was not the best way to spend five hours of her life.

And at one point, she even tried to average how much time she spent dreaming.

Because watches and any time-telling devices were useless, she counted the seconds inside of her head and tallied lines on the back of a letter to keep count of the hours. It was meant to be a simple, fool-proof solution-- Hell, she felt proud of herself. There were no hands in the wrong direction, no numbers to confuse, and no letters to mix around. They were just identical markings and the reliance of her own mind.

The tallies told she spent six total hours in her dreams, on average. But when she checked in reality, it was only an hour and thirty. 

In short, she concluded that not only was it downright confusing, it was also bull-shit.

All of these small and seemingly unimportant details is what made her life easier, and made her feel blessed for the signs that separated both her reality and dreams. That being said, if something was abnormal in this realm, she was sure as hell to catch it right away.

So when (Y/n) had finally opened her eyes and crossed the mental bridge, she was not anticipating the change. It nearly made her choke on her own saliva and fall back on the dark oak floor.

If it hadn't been for the de-colorization, (Y/n) would of thought she wasn't dreaming at all. It was the first time she had seen this here of all places. But no matter how many times she blinked, sat up and rubbed her eyes, there was no denying what she was seeing at the moment. Out of the smudged panes of glass, her (e/c) eyes squinted out towards the forest she had previously closed her eyes to. If there was any differences between the two, she was not able to see them.

A shaky breath escaped her lips and she couldn't help but feel a _rush_ of excitement. In hind-sight she should of been horrified, nervous, weary that for the first time in her life, a beautiful landscape was finally replacing the regular sea of endless white. There was no doubt in her mind that the sudden change was strange, and if not even suspicious, but at the moment she was too amazed to care. 

The birch branches swayed along with a breeze, basking its own glory of grays while the pine-trees simply stood still. Quickly, (Y/n) unhooked the lock securing the double push-out casement windows and opened them both outwards. This certain installment might of also won (Y/n) this room, it was nearly disturbing how easily Nate would of been able to peer out, lean too far out and take his fall all the way to the ground.

Gripping tightly onto the sides, she stuck her head out of the pole-less window... There was no breeze.

She leaned further out and felt for anything.. Though there wasn't even the slightest hint of temperature. Then, she looked down. There was no change in Hell that she would fling herself to and plummet to the ground, but (Y/n) couldn't help but wonder what would happen if she did-- bruising was obviously possible from past experience, and she assumed broken bones as well, but would this apply for death? It made no sense if she was asleep, after-all.

"Right. So I can get hurt, but feeling some wind is impossible," she grumbled with the roll of her (e/c) eyes "makes sense." 

Mildly disappointed, she slipped her upper-body back inside and closed the windows. Even if there was a few sensors lacking, it would not stop her from exploring the newest additions. She didn't mind getting lost, she would wake up eventually, but she still found that leaving a trail of something was bound to do her some good if time wound up to be longer than anticipated.

It was only when she turned to slip on her shoes did she freeze in her spot.

Her bedroom no longer consisted of just a few cardboard boxes on the floor. Her _entire _room had all been set into place, her full sized bed, fluffed comforters, throw pillows, glass desk, cloth drawers, spiraled oval rug, bare shelves, and her little trinkets. Every single thing she packed managed to arrange themselves for her. All neat, tidy, and ready for use when she returns. The few remaining things that were waiting to be stored away was her books, a few posters, and the shoe-box filled with un-coded letters.

A large scented candle, framed pictures, and her laptop seemed to be the only major things occupying her glass desk. That and a few other things such as knick-knacks, pencils, and her collection of journals. 

"What the actual fuck," she whispered to herself, taking another good look around the room. 

There was no further decorations or objects that would have made the room around her far more homey. Still, she never would have expected her room to be looking like this the second she entered the dream-realm. It was nearly impossible, (Y/n) had went to bed with nothing more than a bare room and a couple of filled boxes. The only reasonable explanation was that her mother finished up most of the work for her while she was asleep.

This meant that she must have been in a deep sleep for a long while.

It was almost an uncomfortable thought. She looked towards her bed-- neatly made and thankfully not pressed up against the corner. Throw pillows had been arranged in an appealing way and her knitted bear slumped lazily against the mattress. From here, she could see that it was beginning to grow more than a bit old and worn, but she'd be damned if she threw a piece of her childhood away.

Her eyebrows furrowed, there was something more.

In the center of the bed, she could see a sealed envelope.

(Y/n) never got the letters every single night, she was more bound to find them on certain occasions. From who they were from, she still had no idea. But she liked to believe that it was someone who had a similar ability, someone who had been contacting her in a pen-pal sort of way. She felt that it sure as hell would be nice to respond... However they would manage get it. 

She made her way towards the bed and picked up the envelope, carefully ripping apart the sticky, sealed flap to reveal the folded paper. (Y/n) wasn't expecting anything more than the usual combination of letters, but it wouldn't do any harm to catch a glimpse, would it?

Removing the letter from it's envelope, she unfolded the sheet.

"Msp xzxws, Gvaghsjw!

A zthke swrwk, M'e lzfgvaljr! Klwkj krw s yjk fxzxw qfrlxxhrrll yvrx A pfg silmnbx qq ftbvc gg, gik ml etcbw dbps psm'kj hyi ggj kys ohs! Fvngbhs, tidxgfrxw! Etcb, M'de qsk cgn nb fr s ljqiil, B boj vghywek xhw mfy laj sexakj hzqw! By zfscl qwbi qhz gkmde momif'm wsrh er thyij ejhkijl, bvzgz bx rzwsiuczrlbsu, psm'kj trpdbsu sizbsr r pamyzv fmm N rfr'l uqodi qhz~ xlwl wtb'k kwm ycf ipvnhvh, qhzf nsjd nge'x vhss pil. B'qz kide dcl azty, kyif rti wmfw rs Z'pd znjv cgn f dimrx kci ede yvv ixytfk! Wgnsr cmcx f rved?

\- Unzc Gaimsi"

It turned out to be exactly how she imagined it would.

Looking back, she must of burnt through one too many notebooks in order to try and figure out the code for these. Truth was, there was just too many combinations without a single clue to lead her in the right direction. So if anyone was willing to give advice, then she is all too willing take it. Of course, that meant she would actually have to show them the letters.

And for a strange reason, that thought had felt.. Wrong. Almost as if it was meant to be private.

She sighed and placed the sheet of paper back on her bed, it would be there when she woke up.

Not a couple of seconds after, the ground began to sway and tremble underneath her feet. (Y/n) yelped in surprise and grabbed tightly onto the bed-post for support as the quake began to grow more aggressive, so did her efforts to latch onto any sturdy. Though, there no items were being knocked over and none of the imbalance of jittery furniture rasping against the hard-wood floor. 

There was always a sign before (Y/n) went back into reality. Usually, the world would slowly grow dark and fade in-- enclosing her in pitch-black. Embarrassingly enough, it frightened her a few times, more often than she would of liked to admit. But the signs were nothing like this.

Something strange was happening, alright. And she wasn't so sure what to make of it.

Shutting her eyes tightly; (Y/n) held her breath and waited for the weightless feeling to pass.

* * *

"(Y/n)! Wake up, hurry! Wake up!" 

Inhaling a large heap of air out of pure shock, (Y/n) quickly opened her eyes and sat up from her uncomfortable position. With her own blood pumping and racing inside of her body, she looked down at her little brother. A light jacket had been draped lazily over his shoulders, the sleeves rolled back up to his elbows. His light blue jeans stained with dark soil, a leaf had been weaved into his sandy-brown hair. In one of his hands, he held a small toy-soldier.

She recognized it on an instant, considering the only thing it could do was play an obnoxious catch-phrase.

Nate stopped shaking her shoulders and pulled away, the wide-eyed expression on his face did not make (Y/n) feel any better.

"Hurry, you're going to miss it!" 

"Nate, what's going on? Nate!" 

She was given no other explanation, and seeing as the young child simply ran out of her room in a hurry, (Y/n) assumed that she wouldn't be getting one. _"What a lovely way to wake up"_ she thought, throwing the blanket away from her body and hastily slipped on whatever shoes she could find. At the moment, (Y/n) didn't know what to think as she stood and followed her brother's path out of the door. Whatever it was, it had to be done in messy-hair and wrinkled clothes.

"Hurry!" he called, the urgency in his voice was all too real.

His foot-steps thudded against the wooden stairs then the sound continued to echo off the first floor, in a matter of seconds, the back-door had slammed itself shut.

For a boy in his tender, young age, he sure as hell knew how to move those tiny feet of his. (Y/n) didn't fall too far behind, she grasped onto the railing with her left hand and rushed her way down the flight of stairs-- granted, she wen't down more gracefully and quiet, seeing as how her parents door was _closed_ when she whizzed by their room. 

Maneuvering her way through the couches and coffee table in the den room, the back-door let out a loud shriek when she had pushed it open and rushed outside. If her parents were not awake by this point, they sure would be now. They would both be in for a real treat then. Still, she couldn't have cared less when the screen-door noisily closed back into place.

"Nate?!" she ran out towards the yard, but the boy was no-where in sight.

Despite her constant self-reassurance and being aware that Nate couldn't have gone too far, no matter his speed. She felt her heart freeze into a solid block of ice and drop into the pits of her stomach. Her mouth had gone dry in seconds whilst glancing around frantically. With two working parents consistently having to travel for work, she was the only one responsible for Nathan. The cooking, cleaning, laundry, homework, all of it. It was unfair, being forced to grow-up and care for someone else at such a young age, but it was also the reason why the two siblings were so close.

That being said, should anything happen to Nate, it would be on (Y/n)'s shoulders to carry.

The morning air had been so crisp and cold, a faint trail of smoke followed along her shaky exhale.

_Morning air._

_ It made (Y/n) wonder just how long she had been asleep. The last she checked, it was mid-afternoon._

She hugged her own arms to warm herself, the tips of her fingers were already growing numb with the atmosphere's bitter autumn chill. She ventured out further into their yard, licking her lips, she called out for her little brother again, this time using his real name.

"Nathan! Where are you?!" she waited for a response, when really every single cell in her body told her to run into the thick cluster of trees and search for him. But there was too much of it, trees, bushes, rocks, tall grass, uneven ground-- what good would it do to have them both lost?

A certain blob of sandy-brown hair poked itself out of nature's coverage, the beat of her heart hitched in relief. If she had to, (Y/n) would of stood there until sundown simply yelling and calling out for him until her throat went sore. To which, she shouldn't have the responsibility to do as such, this is her parent's child. She felt that it was only fair to play the role of a big-sister while they were around.

It seemed like turning away now and ignoring his calls was an awful idea at the moment.

"Hurry! Or else they'll be gone!" he warned, then ran back into the direction he was heading and straight deep into the woods. No matter what, (Y/n) had to keep in mind that he was only six years old, he is bound to make mistakes, not think twice about certain things and be oblivious. Still, this was a reckless decision, even on his end. From all of the lecturing she was forced to give him, she would have thought that some of them would stick into his memory. The words he said processed through her brain.

_They?_

_ Who the hell was they?_

Without another chance to second-guess herself, she rushed in after him. There was absolutely no time to mark the path they were going, and (Y/n) imagined that trying to memorize her path would be more than she could bite. She did what she could, paying attention to certain marks on trees and the shape of rocks, most of them all looked the same to her, it would be a while before she knew these parts like the back of her hand.

_ "If-- No, when we get back, he's going to be in for it,"_ she swore to herself bitterly.

For now, (Y/n) was swiping away low-hanging tree branches with her wrist and powering her way through thick, thorn-infested bushes. They might of gave beautiful flowers during warmer months, but at the moment it was only a pain in the ass. It was so literal that (Y/n) nearly laughed. Pine-needles and rough bark abused her skin, leaving light red marks on her (s/c) complexion. Other than the slight sting, the injuries weren't such a big deal.

She was thankful for the morning light, at the very least she was able to see where Nate was leading her. Nate wasn't quite as big as his sister yet, however the perks of swiftness and agility came with a smaller and slim frame. Which was why he was able to dodge and duck under things without any difficulty. He stepped onto a thick log, and landed roughly on his feet, running past a dying bush and sliding down to the base of a very steep hill. (Y/n) didn't expect Nate to stop and turn to see if she was still behind him-- and he didn't, which is why it was simple for him to run ahead and disappear into the dense mist.

One thing for sure was that he wasn't the most graceful.. Much less quiet.

"Nate, please wait!" she called after him, using her arms to lift her body up the large log and slide over it. Wincing over the harsh, broken bark her palms had suffered, she continued on ahead.

They saying, "always expect the unexpected" was crap.

(Y/n) would have never anticipated a poor excuse of a hill in the middle of a path. 

At one point, she was sure that she would look back on this moment and laugh at how ridiculous she must have looked. Right now, she was refraining a long string of curses inside of her throat and made her rough tumble, the fall came with more of a numbing shock than anything else, the platformless sensation beneath her feet made her blood run cold. When she first landed on her side, (Y/n) barely felt the pain, surely it was just the adrenaline doing it's work.

There was only so much that she could do to protect herself.

She only did what came naturally, and that was to guard face from rocks and fallen sticks with her forearms as shields. The mercilessness of gravity forced her further down, and the slick, wet soil didn't make anything better either. She was cold, angry, anxious, damp, and now experiencing the longest possible fall in her life. It was a wonderful way to start her new life. 

(E/c) eyes closed themselves tightly, it was better than seeing her entire world spin.

Finally landing flat on her stomach, she cried out in a mixture of both agony and irritation "fuck!" 

The wind had nearly been knocked out inside of her.

(Y/n) lied there, closing her eyes tightly to recover from her tumble. 

Her head swam and spun in endless circles, the ground beneath her hardly felt real. Inhaling the cold air sharply into her lungs, she tried to calm down the rapid patter of her heart. Then, she exhaled shakily, opening her eyes slowly to look around and make sense of what had just happened. She was on the floor. Her skin ached. The tree's still towered over her. Grass stains and smeared mud were on her shirt, and the possibility of a concussion crossed her mind. But most importantly, She was alone... 

With wobbly knees, she pushed herself gently off the ground and stood up. She reached above her hair and pulled out a bundle of twigs and leaves, she didn't care for the tangled mess it left behind.

She was alone, and she was lost..

(Y/n) could have sat down on a clear patch of ground and cried, bury her face inside the palms of her hands and allowed the frustration to over-take her. She didn't, instead preferring to swallow back the growing lump inside of her throat and blink away the few tears that threatened to well-up in the corner of her eyes.

The teen still had the responsibility to bring her little brother back home. She wouldn't want his death weighing on her conscious for the rest of her life. Even if all she really wanted to do was peel out of these dirty clothes and soak in a hot bath, a very, very, hot bath. Maybe even treat herself to fresh cookies and warm hot-chocolate, the thought of that sounded like bliss.

The overwhelming pulse of pain was beginning to grow in, any exposed skin is now numb with cold to this brutal autumn morning. She rubbed her hands together in a weak attempt to bring them back to life.

The only thing that was _seering_ with heat was her birthmark. (Y/n) figured that whatever bit her must of been large and nasty, and it chose the best possible time for side-effects.

She continued on further, slower this time. Not in the best mood or condition to run and chase after her brother. She deserved a damn metal for being this patient with him.

"Where do I even begin looking-- Nate!" weak and disorientated, she ignored the thorns hooking onto her ankles, she figured she'd just patch up whatever she could later.

"Nate come back here!" She was heading deeper into the unknown, and there was not a sight of him. The colored song-birds flew from their perched positions at the sound of her voice.

"Nathan, I'm not playing games anymore!" Going in further, she realized that she was talking to herself. He wasn't going to respond.

(Y/n) sighed and stopped, leaning her entire body weight against a white, birch tree. Her throat was growing to be hoarse and dry, if she had to shout out his name one more time--

"_Go left~_" the chalky voice had whispered again, this time echoing inside of her hear, but it seemed more tired than yesterday. 

Strangely enough.. She felt compelled to follow it's advised direction, it would have felt right, as if this would get her away from her hopeless situation. Everything else inside of her screamed not to, from an outside perspective, the thought of obliging was beyond mental. Still, before she could even debate to herself, she felt her limbs move on their own. As one would assume, to her left. She allowed this to happen and figured what more was there to loose? 

"_Come on, you'll have to move quicker than that_," 

And so, she did, making her best attempt to go into a light run. Everything still ached with a dull pain.

"_Thatta girl, now right~_" 

(Y/n) was almost tempted to call out her brother's name again, but then, _she was sure this isn't her brother_. That much became too obvious. She made the turn, still unsure of what she was doing.

_"It's nice to know that I'm finally going insane"_ she thought, not expecting the voice to respond-- though it did.

"_Haha! Oh boy, you're going to be a blast-- keep going straight_" (Y/n) swallowed thickly, she must of hit her head pretty damn hard. A severe concussion was the only reasonable explanation for it all, or, she was beginning to hear voices. She didn't really believe in either of those two.

With nothing more to lose other than her own dignity, pride, and the peace of mind, she complied. It had all been a blur, following as the identical trees went by, overhearing the crunch of brown leaves and falling twigs giving out under her feet, licking her dry, purple lips. She trembled against her own body and refused to acknowledge the gnawing sensation grumbling inside of her stomach.

She will handle one demon at a time, and hunger would simply have to wait.

When pure intuition told (Y/n) to stop in her tracks, and looked around. She hardly noticed that the fog had lifted, somewhat. In the distance, there was a small patch of clearing where the sunlight had beamed it's way through the coverage of diverse leaves. It directed her attention towards an object, not being able to help herself, (e/c) squinted to try and make sense of what she was lead to.

For a second, she had been relieved that the figure could turn out to be Nathan. But seeing the small, circular piece of a top hat, a feeling of burning annoyance settled inside of her chest.

A stone.

No, it was more of a statue. The gray and lifeless material had given that much away, a clump of moss was beginning to grow around the rough ridges and chipped areas of the statues. From where (Y/n) was standing, a few darker spots were visible. It must of not done very well against weathering. She could not see the entire work, but she did manage to catch a glimpse of a few fingers-- a hand?

(Y/n) was deathly curious, her mind blank and her limbs longing to move themselves on their own. She was convinced to see what had been discovered, it was only a little more ways ahead.

At the same time, she was disappointed in herself. There was no Nathan, not even the slightest hint of him anywhere in the area, with no Hiker's Trial and a vague sense of direction, she had screwed herself deeper into this mess. If that was at all possible. In a way, it was almost like her own spoon-full of Karma, a lesson learned not to follow the voices inside of your head, even if you happened to be psychic.

She pinched the bridge of her nose as someone clung onto her wrist _tightly_.

"(Y/n), you missed them!"

"Jesus-- Nate!" The teen just about nearly punched him in the face. She never even heard him coming..

"I'm serious... I dunno if they'll come back."

"Who? Who the hell are you talking about?"

"The Gnomes!"

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: The amount of times I had to re-do this chapter is painfully hilarious. Not my greatest work, but had to be done. If you would like to follow along with the letters, the code is "Forest" :) the Gravity Falls decoder website is recommended. Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

"What, so you just let him go off on his own?!"

"I didn't let him go on his own! Are you even looking at me right now?" (Y/n) gestured towards herself. Damp, shining skin. (H/c) hair weaved with leaves and knot, and ruined, mud-stained clothes.

"Do you think this is funny? He could have gotten hurt. _You_ could have gotten hurt!"

Nate sunk back into the kitchen chair, staring down at the bowl of soup to avoid the sharp glances of his mother. A white wholly blanket has been draped over his shoulders, thicker than any sweater he owned, it especially kept him warm during the snowing months. He picked on the decorative bandages (Y/n) had placed on him after being dragged by his wrist all the way home. He hardly even noticed the blood-dried scrapes and long scratches at first, he'd been too focused on his own discovery. 

Despite the ferocity practically oozing from his sister, she had thrown him into a hot shower and took care of the open wounds left on his hands before doing anything for herself.

All of this had been unintentional, if he had the chance to flee and avoid over-hearing the heated argument, he would have. But there was nothing but his own imagination to keep him from listening to their shouting.

"Mom! I'm not laughing at this!"

"Are you sure about that? Because it looks like you don't even realize all the danger Nathan could have been in!"

(Y/n) bit back her tongue, for a petty bubble of burning-white anger and bitterness broiled inside of it. Her lips trembled; threatening to spew cruel, concealed truths about her Mother's poor parenting. (Y/n) could give a list of too many examples in a seconds-notice, from forgetting Nathan's school musical to not noticing his home-done hair cut (Y/n) was forced to give him herself. They were such little things the teen neglected to bring up over the years for the sake of her parents emotions.

_"Maybe if you were a better mother, we wouldn't be here"_ was caught in her throat, it must have played a thousand times inside of her head. In moments like this, (Y/n) wished that she had the courage to say it, maybe it would have changed the way things are, or maybe it would have only added kindle to their already hellish fight. There was no room for guilt, for it was hesitation that held those venomous words in her mouth.

So despite the temptation, she said nothing and sealed her lips shut. As if they had been glued together.

A blanket of long, tense silence fell over them all. They bore into each-other's eyes with a certain edge of coldness and no signs of regret for already spat-out words. Everything was still. Nate had stopped picking at his ornamented bandages, barely having touched his bowl of a now luke-warm soup; Oscar, their Father, had been silent during the entire ordeal, not wanting to have been in the middle of the cross-fire.

(Y/n) knew that she would be all too willing to accept her Mother's apologies when all of this passes over, and she hated herself for it. Which is why she found it valid to soak in all of this frustration and heat while the moment still lingers, it was the only form of justice she was ever going to possibly get.

With a sharp exhale through her nose, the daughter was the first to break away from the stare-down. Her glare still heavy as she turned away and went up towards her room, having the rest of her family members to stew in the awkwardness she generously left behind. But she refused to bolt like a cowering dog with it's tail between their legs-- so instead, she walked away, a silent and deadly storm brewing in each step.

(Y/n) wasn't quite sure just how long she had sealed herself inside of her room. 

She never bothered to check social media, no Wi-Fi router results in no internet, it was that simple of an equation. So what seemed to be an endless amount of minutes sitting on the edge of her bed, cooking in her own pot of anger, she finally realized that she should have been doing something far more productive to cool herself down and hopefully re-enter back with her family without having to speak of the incident.

She figured that re-stocking the last of her books, hanging up her posters, and logging her new discoveries inside of her dream-journal were all fairly good things to do to spend her time.

She did none of this; instead, (Y/n) took out her shoe-box filled to the brim with letters letters and placed them on her desk, pencil in hand, a clean sheet of paper in-front of her, and a ridiculously thick book of codes marked with sticky-notes was at her side. It was an interesting way to distract her mind long enough until she could go over what had happened peacefully.

Besides, this mystery had gone unsolved for long enough. She burnt through books with advice, tips, and chapters with the keys for common and uncommon codes. Going through the long and time-consuming process of re-writing the letter out each time she flipped to a new page. At any rate, she was tempted to scour sketchy websites and Wikipedia in order to crack whatever structure these damn things had.

Still, she was going into this without any clues to lead her in the right direction. That being said, she gave herself a pat on the back and an A for effort. Needless to say, she was feeling determined enough to finally come a step closer and narrow down the long list.

Eventually, one scrap of paper bunched up into a crinkled ball of scribbled messes have turned into ten scattered behind her. She was sure that a town surrounded by woods must of had some sort of recycling company, then again, Gravity Falls was a fairly small place to relocate to. Written sticky-notes had marked invalid and now useless pages, her wrist had pulsed with a sharp soreness and her fingers began to stiffen from being held in their position for so long. 

At the very least, the main profit she was gaining from the hour-worth of writing was practice with her penmanship.

(Y/n) sighed and allowed her hand to fall limply on the desk, a small break as she looked over the note. It had gotten slightly better, there was a few legible words, but most of them were just heaps of scrambled letters. It was progress and she was too eager to take it. She cracked and wiggled her fingers to increase the blood-flow into the digits before picking up her pencil again and flipped the sheet of notebook paper onto it's backside.

Turning the page on the book, she whispered to herself, "here we go again."

There was a knock on the door as her pencil made contact with the first row of lines; she didn't take the time to look up. Judging from the firm tap, she assumed it was her Father. Only her parents have ever bothered to knock, Nate would have been comfortable enough to stroll right in and take his seat on her bed and the chances of her mother apologizing in a few hours was slim to none.

"You can come in" she called, already beginning to line up with words with the key.

The door hinges creaked slowly, her assumption was correct. A much taller man leaned his broad-shoulders against the door-frame. Her younger brother had the privilege of picking up more of their father's traits, sandy-brown hair, squared chin, naturally flat brows, and wrinkled lips. Other than the three sharing striking (e/c) eyes, the daughter happened to resemble most to her mother.

"What are you writing there?" he asked, somehow (Y/n) was glad he avoided saying _"are you okay?"_

Oscar had always been best at calming down unsettling situations, especially fights.

She hummed in response, "just a letter that I'm writing" not the entire truth, but there was no reason for her Father to suddenly become informed of the messages that were magically appearing after her dreams..

Not to mention the voice. The chalky, tired voice that was somehow aware of itself. Since she returned from their _hiking trip_, the topic has yet to cross her mind until now. Truth be told, all logical senses told her to believe that she had fallen and hit her head too hard. But, a larger part of herself knew better than that.

She wanted to be thankful that it lead her to Nate and pretend the voice never happened. 

But the time coincidence was too surreal.

_ The vision,_

_ The voice,_

_ The statue? _

All of those events happened in less than 48 hours, it would be delusional not to assume they're connected. Which was exactly the reason why she had to go back into those woods-- preferably, not when Nathan was awake. Having to balance her attention between keeping a close eye on her brother and retracing her steps was more than she wanted to chew off.

One thing for certain is that this secret should be left untold, even to Nate. If even the smallest word of it manages to catch wind to her parent's ears, (Y/n) was sure she'd be going straight into a psych-ward before she could even cough out a lie.

Oscar raised a brow, nearly grinning "a coded letter? Well, you sure are going to give them a hard time."

She nearly laughed at the irony, "ooh, you have no idea" she answered, slowly closing the book of codes and dropping the pencil on her glass desk, the led had been growing dull anyhow. Her fingers pulsed in appreciation. 

There was another moment of silence, however it was nothing like the one (Y/n) had with her Mother. This was peaceful; comfortable, and warm. 

"Listen, your mom..." he sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

Oscar stopped, allowing his hand to fall at his sides; he took one good glance at his daughter. He was never one to intervene in things such as this, even if at times there was moments where he should have jumped in and stopped the fight from escalating. That was his issue, he simply never did.

From the way (Y/n) turned her attention towards her lap and examined her fingernails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, Oscar could have only thought, _"too soon."_ He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, pushing open the dark-brown leather flaps, he held out two twenty-dollar bills.

"Your mom," he continued "made soup, but I figured you two would rather go out-- you know I hear Greasy's Diner is pretty good."

She fought off a smile, "I think that's because it might the _only_ diner in town."

* * *

Needless to say, the walk down their gravel path was more awkward than she anticipated.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what was worse, the complete silence or failed attempts of small-talk.

Whenever (Y/n) did try to bring up something to talk about, Nathan's responses were short and quiet. While there was no created distance between the two siblings, Nathan was sure to keep his eyes close to the ground or anywhere away from his sister. It was made painfully obvious that something was wrong, on normal days he would have been running ahead or making small observations to make the atmosphere seem fulfilling.

Instead he bunched up in his blue, thick coat and stuck right at her side. The only sign that told her that Nathan _wasn't_ angry.

Still, she had gotten the memo and left the rest of the path up to nature.

As the two walked along the damp, gravel road, they were thankful that the morning fog had lifted and allowed the sun to peak through the parted clouds. In the middle of autumn, one was either freezing or enjoying the last fruitful moments of warmer weather.

First impressions are always important, that is what (Y/n) believes. And she found that her skin was practically glowing from her thorough shower, which she desperately needed, it was embarrassing how matted her hair became. Hell, she nearly dug into her scalp and scrubbed off her skin trying to wash away the grass stains. In the end, her efforts went a long way. (Y/n) was feeling confident in her long, thick burgundy sweater, soft white jeans, and knee-high brown boots with a complicated but aesthetically pleasing trail of laces. Though (Y/n) was consistent in adjusting the cowl neck piece of her sweater.

Not that she had expected to find anyone potential for a relationship on her first few days, not that she was looking for anyone either. However, she found it best to dress nicely and make good appearances while her family still had the chance. It took time and work to make a good social reputation, and it required only seconds for it to be destroyed.

A lesson that was learned the hard way.

Her eyes couldn't help but wonder; more than ever, she was unable to resist the temptation of finally soaking in her surroundings. There was no chill in the soft wind, a mixed array of orange, red, golden leaves have already fallen from the birch branches and decorated the ground as if it were a canvas. Large patches of grass continued to thrive in lush green life, but she had noticed that there was the most subtle fade of light brown, the surest sign of dormancy. A warning that Winter would be coming soon.

A few song-birds chirped and directed her attention up towards the sky.

Three perched on the same crooked branch, tucking themselves into their own feathers. (Y/n) had never been a bird-watcher, but seeing the natural golden-brown freckles on their wings had nearly tempted her to buy a book on Oregon birds. One was considerably bulkier than the rest, brick-red feathers a black, asymmetrical eye-mask. The other was much smaller, thin and clay-colored, having a white underside. It was the only one to be spooked into flying off as the duo passed by.

The blue sky was smooth, only a few stray clouds faded into the atmosphere.

Everything seemed to be much more breathtaking when one wasn't running aimlessly in the woods.

A paved road was only a few more feet away; the first few things that had came into view was houses structured with more than enough space between each-other. (Y/n) looked over to Nathan and adjusted his hair, combing down any wild strands. He didn't bother to pull away, preferring to stare down at his feet as they inched closer.

When the siblings made their way into town, it was almost amusing how their expectations varied from reality. Gravity Falls seemed to be a bare town at first, run-down buildings, loitered, with your hostile local addict lighting another round just around the street-corner. (Y/n) was nearly taken back at how the town was the exact _opposite._ Strangers smiled and waved; when they strolled down the street, yards and houses were well-maintained, there was no lop-sided buildings with worn-down materials, and aside from a few vandalized alley-ways she managed to glance into, it all appeared to be exceptionally normal. She had seen friendly faces and much more rather... Interesting characters.

A giant of a lumber-jack especially caught her eye, (Y/n) was uncertain if it was for his bright red hair or the axe slung over his right shoulder. She could admit it, the sight of him made her nervous and she was almost ashamed that she judged him for his appearance, for all she knew he could of been a gentle-giant.

She looked around and observed the small shops. There was nothing that she was looking for, police station, laser-tag joint, doughnut shop, flower market, and a dry-cleaning company. How businesses were arranging themselves in Gravity Falls sure was very interesting, at the very least she could get a morning doughnut on her way to school.

She pursed her lip together and looked around, everyone seemed to know where they were going, at the very least she was glad there wasn't much car traffic-- or any cars at all for that matter.

One day, (Y/n) would know this town like the back of her own hand, but that day was not today.

"Do you think we should keep walking or ask around?" she glanced down at her brother.

He merely shrugged, "I dunno" was his response, surely a mouse would have been able to squeak louder than that. If there was a wall in-front of her, (Y/n) would of thudded her head against it.

She decided to spare herself a possible case of a future head-ache and instead take a few uneasy seconds out of her life to ask a local a few questions. Still, she was a little more than hesitant to bother a stranger with directions, however, without it they might as well spend half the day in town. The only thing she needed to keep in mind was if she was polite, everything would go smoothly.

Shamefully, she opted for someone who would give off more friendly vibes.

And if there was anything this town should have been infamous for, it was all of it's interesting locals.

Her (e/c) eyes settled back on the axe-wielding giant and noticed there was something added onto the picture, hovering next to him was a considerably more petite teenager. Red-hair seemed to be a present gene in their family, because hers cascaded straight down her back like a fiery ocean. Her green checkered flannel and dark jeans made her pale skin stand out, it matches well with her muddy boots. But with her hands crossed over her chest and her thin lips falling flat into a frown, it almost made (Y/n) second-guess approaching her.

_Almost._

As far as the eye could see, the red-head was the only girl around that seemed roughly her age and (Y/n) was not about to miss this chance.

They weren't any more than twenty feet away, so as long as (Y/n) was able to hear her brother's footsteps shuffling behind her quickly, she didn't stop. 

With a well-practiced smile, she approached the duo and caught the teenager's attention with a soft "excuse me." 

Relief reassured her chest when the red-head turned to her and smiled, "Oh hey! I haven't seen you around here before.. Are you a tourist?"

(Y/n) nodded, "No, we actually just moved here! Erm, my name is (Y/n) and this is my brother Nathan, and I was just wondering--"

_The wheel had clouded her vision again, this time a bag of ice-cubes was glowing much more powerfully than the others. (Y/n) had to blink a few times. Out of all the moments she could have gotten a vision, it had to be now of all times._

She noticed the sudden stop in her sentence and forced herself to continue, "if you could give us directions to a super-market?"

Nathan furrowed his brows together and looked up at his sister, "I thought we were going to eat?"

_ "Ah, so now he speaks"_ she hummed "we are, we just gotta get something first."

She laughed softly "sweet, you know I was just heading to the Super-mart, I can walk you there if you want" she offered and (Y/n) couldn't help but feel relieved.

"Really? Thank you so much, that'll be great!"

"Yeah, it'll be no problem" she paused briefly "my name is Wendy, by the way."

_The particular vision continued to flash inside her mind, this time the bag of ice was the only thing on the wheel as it spun in endless circles. (Y/n) resisted the urge to rub her eyes and blinked harshly again, hoping Wendy wouldn't have noticed. Her first possible friend here and she was automatically apart of her vision, this should play out very lovely. Regardless, it needed to be noted in her journal. Whatever message her mind was trying to send was now crystal clear, Wendy was a bag of ice for whatever it was worth._

_ Though, what was a bag of ice supposed to mean?_

* * *

Yellow is a color that is bound to catch attention to the human eye first.

Small talk with Wendy had gone much more easily than it had been with Nathan. As a matter of fact, it could be considered a successfully fulfilling conversation. So much so, that (Y/n) had learned the littlest things about Wendy, to name a few examples: she was the oldest of her brothers, she loves flannels, and that she was born into a family of lumber-jacks. Considering her father, this hadn't surprised (Y/n) much.

They exchanged information like this back and forth, naturally, only what was considered socially acceptable. Eventually, Wendy assumed that (Y/n) would enjoy a day with her friends in her own tour around town-- an invitation that (Y/n) accepted, she figured that giving Wendy and her friends a chance was the least she could do. Now, she was expecting a text tomorrow at noon.

(Y/n) held the large ball of threaded yarn in her hands.

When the siblings first arrived home, there was a new, solid rule already set by their parents.

**"Under no circumstances are you to go into the woods without us."**

The sooner she finished what needed to be done, the better.

(Y/n) had gone over all of the possible options; there was only one choice that she could make to save both her skin, Nathan's, and avoid her parent's punishment.

Not that it made the plan any easier, (Y/n) had realized that venturing out into the deep, dark, and uninviting woods alone was possibly the worst idea she has had so far into her life. And making her "hike" in broad day-light.. Well, it was easier to simply ground yourself for months and avoid the long lecture.

Somehow, reassuring herself that she'd be prepared this time around didn't help much.

_"What are you doing this for? A statue?"_ her own voice repeated inside of her head.

It sounded just as insane as it was about to look.

_"The voice lead me there for a reason. The vision, voice, statue, hell even the bag of ice! They're related. I'll be ready this time."_

Truth be told, simply sitting on the bed and looking out into the dark sky was enough to make her nervous. Imagining that she was out there, alone, made her blood rush cold. She had no choice, the vision came to her for a reason, she only hoped that it was worth all of her discomfort.

As much as she would have liked to bring her number one supporter along..

She glanced away from the ball of yarn, her eyes fixated themselves on Nathan laying flat on his stomach. Nestled with a large heap of a fluffed blanket on the edge of her bed, he had always preferred his sister's mattress, he once described it as "roomy" and "feels like sleeping on clouds!" his own bed was full of springs that dug too deeply into his back and forced him to wake up sore in the morning. So with heavy eyes and the use of his arms as a pillow, he was well on his way to recover his spent energy.

(Y/n) couldn't take him along, even if she wished that he could.

She opened her satchel and double-checked everything was there. A fully charged phone, another roll of yellow yarn, couple of snacks, her dream journal, pen, and a box cutter knife she had _borrowed _from the kitchen drawer... It was only for emergencies she hoped would never happen. It was the wilderness in the dark, the most she expected was a territorial raccoon. Still, one can never be too careful.

Adjusting her coat closer to her body, (Y/n)'s hand only a couple of inches away from the door-handle when she heard Nathan's groggy voice.

"I'm sorry..." the level of his voice was soft, but she managed to catch it.

"What for?" she placed her hands on the door knob, but didn’t turn.

He didn't respond at that particular question; while she had a strong feeling what he was talking about, (Y/n) also realized that most of her little brother was practically asleep at this point

"Are you mad at me?" he asked softly, his breathing being rhythmic and gentle through it all.

_It nearly killed her heart._

_ Was she bitter that he had left her behind so casually? Most definitely._

But at the moment, all of it had managed to seep away into the quiet atmosphere. She forgave too easily and knew it, allowed too many things to slip by, suffered on her own, and kept silent when she shouldn't of had. However, she believed that there was a difference. Nathan was only six years old, a tender age were mistakes will hopefully only encourage him to grow. Claire was an adult.

"No, I'm not mad" she reassured him with a soft smile, "just don't ever do that again, okay?"

His head nodded along with his sister's words; (Y/n) couldn't help but notice he had whispered something under his breath, she couldn't quite make out what it was this time, and she refused to bring him fully into consciousness to ask. They had just made peace with each-other.

Finally, she made her way out and closed the door behind her. The difficult part had been sneaking through her parent's open door without so much as breathing to wake them. Un-moving in their cuddled position, they didn't seem to be getting up anytime soon. Though what really challenged her was going down the wooden stairs that occasionally cried under her feet. She would wince, be still for a few moments and then move on. (Y/n) never planed to be out until the crack of dawn, at the very least she would return, hopefully safe, by the time it was one in the morning.

Weaving her way down and through the first floor was too simple, that was as long as her footsteps were muffled. Opening and closing the back door was bound to be a problem, which is why she opted to climb out of the window, so she slip open the frame just enough so she could slim her way through. Her foot went out first, then her head, and the rest of her body.

It was not the most graceful thing she had preformed, but sliding out is much more easier than wiggling yourself in without much noise.

Once her feet felt the back porch, she wasted no time and ran out towards the edge of the woods.

Though there was a slight chill, there was no wind to sway the branches into rustling.

It was here that she was left face the pitch and never ending darkness, the forest was much more welcoming when there was sunlight pouring through the leaves and the birds perched on the branches to sing their song. Instead, there was a certain uneasiness that spread and infested the shadows-- almost as if there was something lurking inside of the darkness, waiting. Whether it was recent experience, the dense coverage of trees or her own creative mind that haunted her to turn away while it was possible.

Unbeknownst to her, there was quite a few things that fit that description. Things that she couldn't have possibly imagined, and a lot more that would enjoy nothing more than to swallow her whole. But as starving as they are, they wouldn't dare.

Regardless, it was eerie.

All was too still for her own liking, no hoot of an owl or a ravens caw, not even the chirp of the crickets or the rustle of leaves could provide any comfort as much as she wanted it. There was only the thudding of her own pulse against her ear-drums and the crunches beneath the soles of her feet.

She felt like she was being watched, and the more (Y/n) stared to the patterned bark of the trees, the more they appeared to be_ eyes_.

She shook her head and reminded herself that this was for the vision, only hoping this would be over as quickly as she wanted it to be.

Before she could hesitate any longer, she took one end of the yellow yarn and tied it onto a low-hanging branch. A shaky sigh left her lips whilst doing so,

"Well... Here goes nothing."

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

From the very beginning, this had been an awful idea.

She acknowledged that much.

And with the yellow string of yarn hooked around the occasional branch to mark her way, there was always the opportunity to go back the way she came from. It was a choice between either being snug, warm, and safe in bed or out here-- paranoid, nervous, and wandering down a semi-memorized with only a small light-source to guide her way.

Needless to say, there wasn't much room for a competition.

The only issue was, (Y/n) didn't _want_ to go back home, not yet at least. She was this far out into the uninviting woods, she might as well finish through her plan and see what the future had in place for her. And in the end, she wasn't so sure what to expect, there is usually always something more visions give her, a scene, a kiss, a person. But this time around, the only thing to work with was a wheel of symbols and a statue.

Her first and best theory was some sort of dirty secret the town is hiding. Teenagers being involved in an accidental murder of a poor child, and somehow Wendy being apart of it all. Injustice bringing it all back to life. It would surely explain the voice, this would not be her first spiritual encounter. 

Then again, she might of been watching far too many murder drama to assume such a thing is real.

At least, she hoped that would have been the case. (Y/n) might of seen a few things, some scandalous and some that could put someone behind bars. But, discovering the corpse of a person who's murder was covered up with a lie made the meal in her stomach work their way up to her throat. She would have an interesting time explaining how she stumbled onto the "burial." 

She was getting ahead of herself.

(Y/n) shook her head, holding up the flash-light on her phone to guide her way around the dark. With her other hand, she held the continuous yellow yarn. Genuinely, it was her only hope in leading her back home as fast as possible-- everything was much more different in broad-daylight, even now the littlest of things seemed to have malicious intent. She didn't want to spend anymore extra time than what was necessary.

Everywhere, her sight would be filled with towering, slender, bony creatures as they simply... Stared down at her. When she directed her phone-light onto them, these monsters became nothing more than branches quickly turning to be bare from the autumn season.

She tried ignored them at first. Glancing away or having to remind herself that these were simply illusions created from her fear and darkness. Though, it was difficult not to stare at these hallucinations from the corner of her eyes-- meatless and physically exposed, she wasn't sure what was worse. The way it's rib-cages were barely being kept in together through tar-like skin, it's hallowed face, or the surreal length of it's fingers.

But it was not her own hallucinations that made her skin crawl out for help, rather, it was the way how everything was so deathly silent. So still that the only thing sparing her from the continuous ring inside her ears was the amplified crunching beneath the soles of her feet. There should have been _anything_ to signal other evidence of life, rustling in the leaves, the chitter of a raccoon-- at this point, she would opt for any other option than hearing her own saliva running down her throat and her own pulse inside of her ears.

At the very least, she was thankful that nothing nocturnal would be clawing their way at her.

Animals only bothered to take shelter when they sensed a large storm.

A shame that this had slipped (Y/n)'s mind.

She slid herself carefully over the moss infested log-- paying no mind the rough, crooked skin of bark. She looped the yellow marker around a low hanging branch once and peered down the steep hill, directing her phone-light to the bottom platform. She couldn't help but scoff at the recent memory. Out of all things her psychic ability could predict, it somehow wasn't able to spare (Y/n) from her personal experience as humpty-dumpty. The scratches and light bruises on her body pulsed with familiar pain; as they did, she also remembered the voice in her head... Rather, more of how the spirit guided her away.

For a moment, she wondered if it would make an appearance again. As concerning as it might sound, a little extra company would make her feel a lot more better. But she immediately doubted it, the fadedness of it's scratchy tone gave away the weak connection, besides, it was him she was looking for, more specifically, _his corpse_.

A melting pot of pity and fear settled inside her stomach.

She had experienced the supernatural before, sure. Though it never made putting souls to rest any easier no matter how many times she does so, (Y/n) couldn't help but think, _"poor boy."_

Digging the heels of her feet deep into the ground, she skiddled her way down the steepness. It wasn't such a long way down at the moment, when she took her tumble earlier, it felt like she was falling for eternity. She pushed the memory away and made her focus on her dense surroundings when she reached the bottom, still deep, dark, and nearly void of life. (E/c) eyes squinted their way through the darkness, a flash-light's range can only go so far. She might not be able to remember the exact path she took-- mainly because she was delirious and a little more than woozy when the instructions were given. (Y/n) is able to recall the directions, just not the right moment to turn. So hitting the general ball-park was the best plan to go from here. 

Regardless, time was slipping away from her.

A phone battery could only last so long and there was no chance in hell that she would be venturing anymore without it.

As she pushed away the thorn-filled bushes and ducked under larger, thick branches. Her veins began pumping with anticipation, but despite the surge of energy, she still noticed the sore, heavy weight under her eyes. While she wasn't too eager and thrilled about her dull dream-world, she also wasn't one for sleep deprivation either. It never gave her anything besides irritation 

When she felt that it was time, (Y/n) took a turn to the left and hooked the long line of yarn around a bush branch. 

If there was anyone troubling her mind further, it had to be Wendy. Just what the red-headed girl had to do with all of this was beyond her.(Y/n) was close to giving her the benefit of the doubt-- she had seemed like a cool person, though she knew better. The only outcome she could hope for was if Wendy tried to give the poor spirit justice. Her eyebrows furrowed at the memory of the wheel, what was a bag of ice supposed to represent?_ Suppose she would have to find that out tomorrow._

_She took a right_

There was many things (Y/n) had noticed about her surroundings now, they were little things that she missed on her delirious stumble in the morning. The most common in her observations was birch trees, some have happened to be torn down, leaving an uneven stump as a memory. A few rugged rocks and small, unique plants were occasional landmarks she made mental notes of. Evergreen cones littered themselves throughout patches of forest floor; she helped herself to inhale the natural pine scent, it was a way to soothe her nerves, if only temporarily. Truly it was (Y/n)'s own uneasiness that highented her senses sharply. 

She continued on ahead, and she didn't stop until she stood in the familiar clearing.

"This is the place, alright" (Y/n) whispered to herself.

It was a struggle accepting the memory of this place-- the one where she was dirty, injured, and on the brink of tears. Most importantly, her fear in failing to make sure that Nathan was safe had brought down her spirits to rock bottom. After-all, majority of the time, they only ever had each-other and allowing that sole responsibility of Nate's well-being slip right through her fingers was mortifying to even re-visit.

(Y/n) took comfort in knowing that he was back home, in bed, warm and asleep. Even if that meant accepting a voice's direction.

She switched off the light and placed her phone inside the satchel, other than uncomfortable darkness surrounding her, she would manage fine without the device from here. When she made a single, final knot with the long train of yarn. She took the box-cutter and severed the line.

A shaky breath echoed into the forest, the teen nearly couldn't believe she was here.

It wasn't far too difficult to spot the stone-carving of a top hat. As she made her way towards the statue, the more it began to reveal itself-- each of her steps becoming faster than the last. Truly, the piece of work was more peculiar than anything else. Her initial thought was a make-shift grave, it wouldn't have surprised (Y/n) if one of the murders began feeling guilty and planted whatever this was meant to be in the victims memory.

But, standing there and in-taking all of the details... (Y/n) would have choked on her own saliva had her throat not gone dry.

_The eye. The stone, cat-like eye._

She didn't notice her hand tightening it's hold around the box-cutter.

Lowering herself to knee on the ground, (Y/n) quickly slipped out her dream journal, flipping past pages of documented entries, past visions, and sketches when words couldn't explain. She stopped at her latest used page, staring directly into the triangular figure surrounded by a large wheel of symbols.

"If Wendy's a bag of ice..." she pursed her lips together "does that mean all the signs are people?"

There was so many of them, she couldn't draw them all down in time. 

She sighed, "maybe it's not a murder" though it meant there was no other explanation for the voice, it was a possibility. This theory was both a blessing and a curse, she wouldn't have to discover a poor corpse if she was simply going insane instead.

Her attention traveled to the figure, the triangle, hat, eye. There was far too much resemblance to possibly deny a connection. Granted, her work was far more sloppier than an actual carving. It was much more larger than what she had expected. Though with chipped and cracked sides glued with moss, it did not seem to withstand weathering very well.

It nearly made her wonder how long this thing had been here.

Placing her journal back, (Y/n) slid closer over to the work.

Sitting there, in-front of the damn thing made her feel... _Watched_. 

(Y/n) did her best to brush away the feeling, work had to be done, she was too close to get distracted. A fairly challenging task when primitive instincts screamed through her unconscious, ordering her to make a deadline towards the house and never look back again. In reality, there was nothing more than (Y/n), this statue, and the hallucinations her mind made to fill up the surrounding darkness.

She leaned in and touched the statue.

The stone would live up to general expectations. Cold, rough, and unsurprisingly dry. Her fingers gently trailed around the piece of rock, the texture of cracks and material felt horrible under her subtle skin. She figured there must of been something engraved. Some sort of letter, symbol, and gods help her anything code-related. She went as deep-searching the backside, eye, and hat.

There was nothing.

Frustrated, she exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Well, what now?" she grumbled, her eyes settling on the outstretched hand. Almost as if it was waiting to be grabbed onto.. Or shaken.

If the idea wasn't so tempting, (Y/n) would have laughed at herself at the thought of it.

The arm was a twig of a thing-- truly; she somehow doubted there was anything on the body-part that would be able to help. Lately, however, she never seemed to have any choices as her movements betrayed whatever reason she had left inside her head. Call it being hopeful in a dead-end situation, or simply being considerate of other options. (Y/n)'s hands already found themselves reaching out towards the arm; in the moment, nearly everything else disappeared. The paranoia, woods, sense, everything faded into thin air-- her mind seemed to be on a sole mission.

It was only them; the world ceased to exist.

All other things were numb-- insignificant, compared to this statue. It felt so important that she even stopped _breathing_ and allowed the tensity to wind up inside of her chest until she no longer had the ability to think. The only thing worth noting was how hard her heart rammed inside her chest. She would stop anyone who got in the way of this moment. No creature, human, or being on the Earth could stop this now.

Her hold easily wrapped round the stone's hand.

...

Nothing happened.

(Y/n) pulled her hand away.

_"Of course nothing happened,"_ she was too embarrassed at herself to speak _"what did you expect?"_

It was difficult to accept that this entire journey had been for nothing.

"I must be missing something," a breathless whisper to no one but herself.

A cold wave washed over her, one so powerful that it nearly knocked her out of balance.

She looked down at her lap and took the box-cutter. In the last seconds of self-possession, she only wondered why her thumb pushed the button-lever upwards on the tool. There was nothing to cut or protect herself against, (Y/n)'s actions had no explanation as she stared down at the sharp blade. 

She wanted to disarm the weapon.

Problem was, not a single nerve inside her brain was listening to her commands. Her thumb refused to even twitch.

No more than a minute ago, the entire world had gone numb. Now, her muscles were getting a fair taste of that sensation.

Slowly, the hand wielding the box-cutter inched closer to her other. Unwillingly, her left palm opened wide without hesitation. It took no one special to understand what was going to happen, though (Y/n) could admit that she was caught under a spell of disbelief. She was there, aware and forced to watch. She was trapped in her own body, panicking and yelling with all the forces inside of her to stop. 

(Y/n)'s movements never slowed for a second, despite her tireless efforts in controlling her own body.

She focused on anything. Her feet. Her toes. Fingers. Hands. Arms. Head. Hell, she even forced the urge to blink, but even the steady pace of her breath was out of her control. The non-existent knowledge of whats causing this was infuriating. At the very least, she would have something to blame. Even so, it wasn't as if she would manage to get away. Her own toes weren't responding.

Every fraction in her body was weightless, much like being submerged in Antarctic waters. There was no tingle, no heat, and most certainty no voice to guide her this time around. All that is left was a body acting on seemingly pure instinct while it's owner faced imprisonment in her mind.

The blade pressed firmly against the delicate, sensitive tissue of her palm.

_"What am I doing? I don't want this!"_

It only took a few seconds for the sharp edge to dig in and swipe across her skin.

(Y/n) was never any good with physical pain. Which is why she would have _screamed_ at the sheer wave of pain had her mouth allowed it. She took her second-best option and cried out a long string of curses inside of her private mind. The wound did not pulse or dull as the seconds went by, instead her flesh wallowed and burned in heat.

Not a single tear began to well inside her (e/c) eyes.

A nice, deep trench began to slowly pour with blood.

_"Oh, fuck..."_ she whimpered, wanting to draw her hand back. Nothing bothered to obey her.

Warm, red liquid began to dribble down her wrist and onto the ground; her body wasted no time and leaned forward to smear the metallic substance all over the stone. First, it was an outline of the entire shape. Her lips finally parted, but instead of a scream or cry for help, whispered chanting rolled off her tongue.

Nothing that (Y/n) could understand.

"nrober emoceb, nrober emoceb, nrober emoceb"

_"This... It-- This is insane. What am I saying, what am I doing?!"_

Her hand swiped over the eye, leaving a bloody trail to cover the pupil.

"em ot kcab emoc, emit tnereffid a, mrof tnereffid a!"

The weather was meant to be fair this evening, so it made no sense when a sudden wind began to rise with the volume of her voice. Then again, nothing about this had ever been normal. Once clear and starry skies became clouded with dark, muddy smoke. For a brief moment, she thought rain would pour. Wind howled against every plant, tree, and blade of grass.

For the first time since she had stepped foot into these woods, she finally witnessed an animal. It was the birds that signaled the alarm, a whole variety of them chirping out their warnings and rapidly beating their wings overhead. What followed their advice were mainly smaller creatures, raccoons, squirrels, rabbits, and chipmunks... Though, in the corner of her vision, she could have sworn a deer was leaping away from her coverage. Amusing how they all seemed to be running for their lives. Which meant she should have as well.

One word to describe it all was chaos.

Temperatures dropped; regardless of her warm jacket, there was a certain chill to the very core of her bones; she trembled against herself. But as the air pushed against (Y/n), it had no effect on her body's determination to finish the mission.

She never stopped fighting against herself, not for a second. However, what more could she do?

"NROBER EMOCEB, NROBER EMOCEB!"

Their hands connected together. Her warm, bloody hand tightly grasping a hunk of stone.

"NROBER EMOCEB!"

Much like a brief spark against a sea of gasoline, there was light, an explosion, nothing but a pure, fiery blue. From the very beginning, this had been an awful idea.

Perhaps the wind did no true harm against her stiff body. But whatever (Y/n) caused, blew her a good feet away from where she once keeled. Too stunned to feel the way her torso smacked and thudded against the hard ground, she closed her eyes tightly to avoid the blinding light. There was no noise to go along the explosion, though the force of it all was incredibly real.

Ironically, all control was given back to her. To which, she took the advantage to curl up and shield herself.

Pieces of stone cracked until it covered the entire triangular body, bits and pieces fell apart and clattered against each-other. A glowing fire was the only thing revealed underneath the cold shell, not that the psychic was daring enough to steal a glance. Rightfully a good judgement, had she been foolish enough to look, such abnormality would have melted her eyes into a thick goop and be left to pool in her sockets. Outwards it's center core, the being hummed to life as a little, black hand wiggled the tip of it's four fingers.

_ "The statue is falling apart"_ (Y/n) deduced, finally managing to recollect her mind.

In hindsight, she should have found the light surrounding her to be a Hellish fire intended to scorch the flesh clear from her bones. Instead it was surprisingly... Soothing, and painless. She almost felt this was some sort of reward for her hard work-- like a pat on a back for good work. From what could have been a painful alternative, she happily took the blanket of harmless blue that soothed her nerves enough to re-trust her instincts.

What was left of the statue dropped onto the ground; a dry, weak laughter rang victorious throughout silent woods.

(Y/n)'s eyebrows furrowed, she recognized the chalky voice.

With the light seeping away into the darkness, (Y/n) rolled over onto her back and slowly opened her (e/c) hues to the starry sky. She was fortunate enough to see the final, faded fragments of blue beams shoot far up into the atmosphere and expected them to go on and disappear into the distance. Only... They rippled around to form a dome.

_"Is there something keeping the light in?"_

"Haha! I'm actually alive!"

_Ah, she wasn't alone._

(Y/n) sat up, re-adjusting the satchel's strap. Admittedly, the natural reaction would have been to be stunned, frozen-in-place, and mortified. To which, she was shocked and disturbed at it all-- however, this night was already wild to begin with. Could it get any stranger than this? She didn't want to find out. If she didn't get her act together quickly, the world will be swept right under her feet.

Easier said than done.

Especially when her attention was focused on a glowing yellow triangle. If the deep slit on her palm was not throbbing with regret, she would have convinced herself this was all another delusion inside her head. She must have gone insane. Still, there it was. Staring down at it's hands and barely managing to balance itself on those thin black legs. With a crooked bow-tie beneath it's one eye and a flopped top-hat, (Y/n) figured that this... Creature, was not in it's best condition. Her body went stiff and her mind ran blank.

"What the actual, sweet, _fuck_?" was the only reaction managing to accidentally slip from her tongue.

The thing didn't seem to notice her... Until now, that was.

Why would she lie? The way it stared at her with with it's single eye made her nervous. Compared to it's previous form, the basic shape was considerably smaller, about the same size as a regular stuffed animal. Despite this, the intimidation of it's stare rolled off in waves.

All of her wished she kept her mouth shut and sneaked off.

"Ohoh~ so you're the one!" he inched closer, it was amusing to see it walk on it's little legs.

"_Why does it sound cheerful?"_ even if she wanted to speak, her tongue wasn't able to form words.

"For starters," he hopped up onto her legs; (Y/n) couldn't find the will to pull away. She asked if this evening could manage to become any stranger and she discovered her answer.

"The names Bill Cipher, so stop calling me_ it_" he corrected, displeased by her pronoun usage. His legs were nearly giving out, Bill was weaker than he initially thought. Understandable, but it was simply another reason for bitterness. 

(Y/n) blinked slowly, "I... I, What? No, I mean. How did you-"

Granted, with the help of his new assistant. His health should be replenished all with good time.

On usual days, he would have taken joy out of her confusion, she practically reeked of panic. At the moment however, nothing could have been more unfortunate. Long story short, it was pathetic having to snap sense into a human, but Bill was doing so out of the intention of survival.

Flattery always seems to do wonders.

"Listen, Princess. I know you've got all sorts of good questions swimming in that head of yours~ but you'll never find answers to any of them if we get ripped to shreds!" Bill leaned back on her knee, "you better get a move on"

(Y/n) glanced up from the triangular entity and peered deep into the woods.

Movement in the shadows caught the last lump of breath inside her throat, this time, it was no deer leaping away for coverage. 

_The bony creatures was **not** her imagination._

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

_ "Holy shit."_

Ignoring his exclamations, (Y/n) shoved the triangle into her satchel.

"_Holy fucking shit."_

Reaching for the box-cutter, (Y/n) hoisted herself from the ground and made a dead-line for the long train of yellow yarn. Had she been alone, she would have cried out-- in terror or from pure adrenaline, she wasn't sure. But keeping in mind that there was another entity bouncing alongside her in a brown, leather satchel was enough to keep her from doing so. 

** "Holy fucking shit!"**

The instant she made her run to safety-- the creatures began to follow. Long, meatless limbs crawled through the forest floor faster than she would have anticipated. So quickly, that all three nightmarish beasts were right at the nip of her ankles, one stumble, one second of hesitation or slowness would be the end of it all. There was no questions flooding inside her head, nothing would distract her enough to taint the overpowering will to survive.

So far, this night is going awfully.

(Y/n) refused to allow the box-cutter tremble in her hands despite the sudden sickness in her soul.

Being one step ahead, it was difficult not to listen to their rattled breathing and popping joints as the hairless things disturbed the leaves and twigs. She could just about imagine the sunken faces and jagged teeth. And for a moment, she imagined her skin being ripped clean from her bones and chunks of her own, soft flesh swallowed in heaps. She shivered, it was ridiculously tempting to glance back and measure their distance, or the lack thereof. However, testing fate and gambling away the risk was not on her current agenda, especially with another life depending on the skills she should have nurtured throughout the years.

She raced past and dodged natural obstacles following the yellow yarn.

Emerging from the flaps, Bill flipped through her dream journal "your determination is great, Princess. But let's pick up the pace" he snapped his fingers in a circular motion.

Privacy. Bill seemed to have no respect for personal privacy. In any other situation, (Y/n) would have made it clear what was off-limits. Granted, processing his existence and how he entered her life was still a scenario she was struggling to wrap her head around. Still, the nerve he must have to leisurely look through her journal whilst inches away from death was outstanding. At that moment, she automatically assumed her time with Bill Cipher was fated to be a drag.

"I'm" she leaped over a tree-stump "going as fast as I can!"

"So she speaks!" Bill exclaimed, much like a lantern, glowing in a bright gold as he spoke. It only took seconds for his light to fade and dull away. He was aware that much of his energy had already been spent guiding the Psychic the hints and leaving her gifts made to increase positive opinion. Something he needed from her in order to survive, he refused to suck up to her completely-- he went sick at the brief thought. 

In his own mind, Bill had already gone far out of his way.

Which is why he would be conservative of the very last scraps of energy he had left. Naturally, he still had what it took to clap and cause the threat disappear in the blink of his eye. But would he? No.

Instead, he chose to linger inside the brown satchel.

Even if she knew he was withholding his efforts in keeping them both alive, being chased by ghoulish creatures was a far more pressing matter than a one-eyed triangle flipping through her dream journal.

As she pushed through another bush, mind anyone, being forced to ignore the prickles of thorns and their clinging hooks. Inches of her light sweater had been caught and snagged in the midst of the unforgiving, shedding branches. Wincing at the tears, she knew she should have been more careful. (Y/n) refused to allow this to stop her. No doubt, she would have already gained more puncture wounds and scratches to show as trophies.

Her exhausted, overwhelmed form glanced upwards hill that caused her far too many troubles. With knees beginning to tremble under her own weight and burning lungs that were persistent in constricting her airway as she silently gasped in precious oxygen. With an irregular pattern thudding inside her chest, blood rushed inside of her, laced with adrenaline and fueled by fear. Making room to search for a detour was not a considerable option, straying from her marked path would be suicide. There was no more cards available to play other than to trudge her way up and ignore her jelly-like thighs.

Once again, easier said than done.

Considering she barely survived an "explosion" she was doing considerably well with speed.

Naturally, things that had been crawling all their lives were simply bound to be faster.

Mid-way through her journey up, a thin, cold, bony hand wrapped itself tightly around her ankles and hauled her down.

She opened her mouth to _scream_, but no noise escaped her lips other than a lowly grunt when her chest collided harshly with the floor. For a moment, it was peace in her body, there was no lingering pain in her cuts or future bruising. Only the aching pulse of her over-worked limbs finally having a few moments to rest. It was nearly numbing how much of an iron-hold the thing had on her, jagged and dirty claws kept (Y/n) from wriggling out.

"Woah, woah, woah hey! Are you just going to lay there?!"

Instantly, her mind snapped back from it's shocked phase hearing Bill speak. Profoundly unsure if it was anger, panic, or both. After-all, her life is not the only one on the line.

By then, claws were already digging themselves deep into her skin. Tears began to prickle inside her eyes; (Y/n) grasped the box-cutter tightly in her hands. Who would of thought she'd be fighting off a hairless beast instead of a feral raccoon? She whipped around with her pain as encouragement and plunged the sharp razor deep into the bony wrist, giving it a nice twist. 

Other than raspy breathes, disturbing popping, and the shuffle of leaves. These things never made a sound.

Until now, that was. When it quickly pulled it's hand back, oozing with deep black liquid it let out such a shrilling screech. She was nearly tempted to curl up and cover her ears, but when it had opened it's mouth and revealed it's jagged, crooked teeth and rotting tongue. (Y/n) would much rather cover her nose instead at the sudden wave of rotten eggs and sewers.

She held back her semi-digested meal struggling up her throat.

Shaking furiously, the box-cutter must have stunned him. Not only did (Y/n) and Bill need some more time for a get-away, but the hellish thing was far too close for comfort. 

With her good foot, (Y/n) delivered a kick to it's face.

Nothing.

Twice, this time harder.

It struggled backwards, continuing to have it's weak hold on the Earth with over-grown claws.

Thrice. It winced-- screeching once more and sliding towards the bottom.

As they say, third time's the charm. Scrambling back onto her feet and pushing past the rest of the way up, (Y/n) refused to acknowledge the claw-marks around her ankles. The other two were quick to follow. If she somehow managed to escape this nightmare and lived to witness another sunrise, there was many, far too items she'd be checking off her bucket-list. Normalcy was at the very top. Normal was straining your eyes from staring at a screen all night and whining about school not running for your life from monsters.

A scoff came from Bill, "you sure did cut it a little too close there, don't you think?" sarcasm made the message clear.

A second later and he would of had to snap his fingers.

Tingling from her fresh wounds. Pain there was non-existent of the moment, a lovely courtesy of friendly adrenaline. Soon, however, the true damage would be discovered once the high of it all begins to wither away. Oh, how she couldn't wait for the sheer punishments for her mistakes to come alive. For the sake of speediness, (Y/n) hoped they'd both reach safety by then.

"Just be thankful that we're even alive" she remarked.

"Don't be so daft, Princess" he re-opened the journal "the kicks were a nice touch!" he turned to the latest page of the sloppy wheel.

Now was not the moment for a full-conversation. Breaking past another thin branch, she allowed breathy sigh of relief to escape her lips. She could have cried out in joy. Such hope of her assured survival caused a sudden burst of pure energy caused her legs to move quicker. With burning thighs and heart rapidly squeezing out ounces of blood, the teen ran across her yard, ignoring the overgrown grass and additional movement in the trees.

Practically leaping onto her porch. The window must have already been hinged half-way open. Luckily, it was just enough space to slim herself through right before another cloudy claw could snatch onto her hair. It was a sudden realization that she must of been rather rough with her satchel when she came in.

"Hey, watch it, kid!" 

Deep into the ungodly hours, she should have told him to be quiet.

Instead, taking in heaps of breath and recovering from... Well, everything. (Y/n) could only stand there, staring through the glass panes as she took a long, good examination of the beast. Had nightmares been possible for her, this is what she would have seen for the rest of her natural life. Malnourished, over-grown, and exposed, the thing stared back at her with dull, white-eyes.

Opening it's mouth to speak, no sound other than rasp came.

Nearly fearful it would reach out and break the window, (Y/n) took a few steps back.

Despite having a tongue, the monster couldn't seem to speak. But it most certainty tried as it moved it's jaw to mouth words.

Incomprehensible, but words no less.

(Y/n) backed away and maneuvered away from the window. Staring into it's dead, white eyes, she gave into uneasiness. Who could have stood there and tried to make sense of it all whilst keeping their sanity? Too much had gone on this evening, for once (Y/n) decided to look after herself. She would resume her visions in the morning. Her injuries will still be there in the morning. And Bill can most certainty wait until the morning.

Quietly going through the kitchen and den area, she crept up the stairs. Everything was beginning to burn with pain, the soreness in her chest she could handle-- it was the pins and needles inside her wounded ankle that made her limp and place her weight on the better one instead. Her legs continued to feel jelly-like; they quaked, nearly giving in and tensing on their way up the stairs and made a fair amount of wooden stairs croak under the careless pressure.

The slit on her palm seemed to feel alright.

A low whistle came from Bill, "hah, so what do you know, you got what it takes after-all!"

(Y/n) sighed; lurched her way down the hall, whispering "try not to be so loud, how do I explain I have a living triangle inside my satchel?"

"You just did, Princess."

(E/c) eyes rolled themselves to the back of her head, she opened Nathan's door-- just across the hall from her Parents. Peering inside, the uneasiness lingering in her mind faded away at the gentle rise and fall of a smaller body swaddled inside thick blankets. She figured Nathan must have woken up and automatically went to bed on his own. Hopefully, he'd be to groggy to mention her absence in the morning.

Satisfied with what she saw, (Y/n) left her young sibling alone and entered her room. Looking around, everything seemed to be in places she once left it. Intense paranoia was leading her mind to believe something had wormed themselves into her room while she was away. However, her double-windows were locked and closed shut.

Kicking off the shoes from her wobbly feet, she removed the satchel and slung it around the wooden bed-post before crashing face-first into her mattress, groaning at the comfort it brought to her pulsing, aching body. Much like a reward for a job well-done, (Y/n) savored her prize and chose not to complain. Truthfully, she couldn't find much excuse in wasting minutes of precious sleep to change into night-clothes and get buried under the fluffed comforters-- though, it does sound very tempting.

Bill made his way out of the satchel and landed with a gentle "thud" on the bed, the pressure of his tiny black legs working their way up (Y/n)'s back felt strange, almost ticklish.

"Don't tell me you're going to sleep, Princess" 

(Y/n) closed her eyes in response, "it's Bill, right? Tonight I brought a statue to life, ran for our lives, and survived. I'm tired."

"Well keep those eyes of yours open, we've got things to go over!"

"Hmm," she dismissed him, "it can wait... Just, entertain yourself."

Not a second later, she gave into a deep sleep no matter his efforts to wake her.

Bill refused compliance to a human's orders-- unless it were a deal of course, but this was not that case. Wandering through a semi-empty room was bore-some to him anyhow, if he wanted to discover her juicy secrets and hidden memories that were worth noting, he would have gone into her mind, naturally. Which was what he planned to do very soon, after-all, what other place was there to be undisturbed and in control than the Mindscape?

He rubbed his hands together, "alright kid, I'm coming in" disappearing into thin air above her resting head, Bill skillfully entered her unguarded mind.

* * *

When (Y/n) had re-opened her eyes to the melancholy world, she was not greeted with her bare ceiling.

Stunned to suddenly find herself in a meadow-like clearing, her bottom-jaw fell open slightly at all of the colorless and seemingly endless coverage of aspen circling around her like an encasing ring. Logs, tall grass, and patches of appealing flowers were all laid out in her mind to seem more welcoming. The field was absolutely clear; if anything she found it distrusting. It took her back to the _real _forest behind her new home. And the _real_ things that must be lurking inside it. For a moment, she almost believed her escape was nothing but an illusion her mind made to accept death. 

In that moment, her heart stopped. Fearing that she never had a chance to say goodbye formed a large, bitter lump in her throat.

Just for that moment.

But she was here, where the skies shared an atmosphere with parted, occasional clouds and a false sun that provided a surprisingly abundance amount of light.

As what she expected, there was no animals, no chirps or chatters to go along with this work of nature. In this world, there hardly ever was. Never leaving the comfort of her gray-scaled home might have played a large role in that. Though, her ears did catch sound of a gentle, light howl that carried along a lone breeze and rustled the branches. Regardless, the scenery was absolutely beautiful. Out of all the things (Y/n) must have imagined about the outside world in her dreams, monsters, nothingness, a white abyss. Serenity and a meadow was obviously not one of them.

But, she was not an oblivious fool.

Strangeness in her grey-scaled dreams have been happening ever since the family car had rolled into Gravity Falls. Now that she could manage to think clearly, base instinct pointed all fingers at Bill Cipher and his wheel for these disturbing changes.

"Wow, you know, you catch on pretty quick when you're not running for your life!"

Jumping slightly, (Y/n) quickly turned to face the familiar voice behind her.

Her mind eased at the sight of him-- Bill. Her eyes widened, he was the only thing in here with color. Still shining in his golden yellow. Amusing. Astonishing. Heart-stopping. Everything (Y/n) had ever known is changing right before her eyes.

While he is not fully trusted, but non-hazardous as far as she could tell. Other than being incredibly pushy, and having no sense of her privacy, he was the only creature so far that hasn't tried to rob her life.

She rolled her eyes, "thanks... It really was a blast."

As he hovered gently in his fixed bow and crooked hat, it made her wonder why he didn't do as such back in the forest.

"That's where things get complicated, Princess!" he floated over next to her, granted, not easily as he wished to but appearances was key, especially now.

_"He did it again"_ she thought, answering an unspoken question. "So what, you can read-"

"Minds? Of of course I can," he confirmed it as a matter-of-fact, as if it were meant to be obvious. "We'll have plenty of time to catch-up in the future, but why not just skip to the point?"

Needless to say, (Y/n) had more than her fair share of questions, some trivial and unnecessary but most ones that needed serious answering.

"Alright, I don't see why not. But I _do_ have some questions."

"And I already know them all!" it was nearly disturbing how joyful he sounded "I'll make you an offer, a deal!" for a split second, blue flames consumed him, reflecting in his cat-like pupil and surrounded his triangular form in a cooling glow. It seemed as if anything that emitted from him deviated from this worlds usual lack of colors.

"What kind of deal?" embarrassingly, curiosity stirred inside of her and it showed.

"It's simple really-- you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours! The bigger the favor, the bigger the reward" if Bill had a mouth, he'd be grinning.

"And I can ask for anything?" she quirked a brow, skeptical.

"Anything, your mind's the limit!" he held out his tiny, black hand. Once again, a faded blue surrounded his palm. The swaying fire appeared to be threatening, though it has yet to harm and give her a third-degree burn.

Nearly convinced, she reached out her hand half-way through. The deal itself seemed harmless, she should have questioned the terms further, for all she knew Bill would ask her to do something far against her morals. Howbeit, she entrusted in her vision-- the wheel that surrounded him, most importantly, this was a gateway to what she wanted the most. No. What she _needed_.

Hesitation.

She drew her hand back a little ways, furrowing her brows. What would become of her if she failed to fill her end of the bargain?

"And... What would happen if you scratched my back but I couldn't return the favor?" the tone of her voice went soft, conspiring like this when she had no idea who Bill was is a risk she'd be willing to take. But who would get harmed in the process of her punishment?

"Woah, woah~ what do you think I'm gonna do? Steal your soul?" he laughed in a terribly croaked pitch, as her soul belonged to him anyhow "relax, Princess. No favor no reward, that's it" Bill had never needed a deal as much as he did now, his health was depending on it.

So, he applied pressure.

"This is a one of a time deal, you know" he held confidence in his eye, Bill circled her as he hovered closer "I don't make these offers to just anybody, so~ what's your call?"

Her skin crawled in anticipation, Bill gave her no reason to trust him, but he also gave her no reason to mistrust him.

"Deal." 

Before she knew it, her hand wrapped around his and her vision seemed to be engulfed in blue. It was not the fire nor it's color that she noticed the most, it as how his cold, sand-paper like hand wrapped around hers so tightly, every bone in her her wrist could have been crushed to pieces. He would have laughed in victory if it doesn't rouse any suspicion, he required her full cooperation. Eventually, she had to pry her hand away from his grasp-- in that moment, the blue disappeared from them both.

"I knew you were a smart girl! Now," he floated closer to stand on her shoulders and leaned his arm against her head "first order of business, I'm calling in a favor."

(Y/n) didn't bother swatting him away, he practically felt like a feather. "Already? We just made the deal literally a second ago-"

"You know what they say, the sooner the better" he began to pull down her sweater, exposing her collar-bone.

"Hey! What are-"

_It stung._

An iron rod, fresh from the heat began picking and prodding at her skin.

It made her cry out like an insect from Hell had bitten her and refused to let go.

She squirmed and nearly flung Bill from her shoulders had he not removed his hand away from her triangular mark.

"Ooh!" she groaned lowly, tears threatening to build from the pain, "what the actual fuck!" she hissed.

His one eye narrowed, locking his gaze at his own hand. That was not meant to happen. Sure, having his chosen one to experience a slight twist of pain would have been an amusing detail to add. Most importantly, his brand did not do what it was meant to-- he experienced no surge of strength whats-so-ever. He hovered away from her, ignoring her angered exclamations and the demand for answers. It mark itself was connected directly to her soul, much like a power-outlet, Bill _should have_ been able to leech off her energy little by little.

Consuming it all would be stupidity at best. She was no food-bag.

Profoundly puzzled and somewhat irritated, he hummed. Surely, nothing had wrong on his end. No, his plans were carefully constructed with little to no margins of possible error. So what kept him from replenishing his power? The tank's empty, pitifully, there was not much he was able to do now.

(Y/n) sighed, "the first triangle I ever meet and he almost burns me alive"

Bill's eye widened. He had almost forgotten. Seconds before his "death", he had invoked _his_ name.

"Of course! A different form, a different time!"

"You don't make a lick of sense" 

"Well where's the fun in making any sense~ I'm still calling in my favor, Princess. Just a slight change of plans" seemingly out of his own body, he pulled out a stop-watch. It's handles were running clockwise "well, well, would you look at the time? Seems that our session is being cut short right about... Now!"

* * *

Gasping, (Y/n) lifted her head from the crooks of her arm.

"Come on," Bill leaned against one of her pillows, eye closed and one leg swung over the other "you're acting like that was your first trip to the Mindscape" 

"You are... Still real. Which means my deal is too" she groaned out, half from physical exhaust.

"Bingo! You remembered" it spared him from wasting away his patience.

Every muscle in her body was stiff, pulsing, and sore. More importantly, (Y/n) was also sure that the open wounds and scratches scattering her entire body had crusted over-night with dried blood, something she should cleanse and bandage soon if she wanted to prevent an infection. She'd simply take a few pain-killers at breakfast.

Withholding anymore noises of anguish, she reached for her phone inside the leather satchel.

In her complete defense, plugging in her phone was not on the list of priority the second (Y/n) got home from her so called adventure. Because of this, it had settled at a lovely 31% and with the internet not yet installed, there was not much to check other than already games.

(Y/n) sighed and glanced at Bill.

Just what exactly had she gotten herself into?

"So... About that favor of yours?"

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Grammar Mistakes are a given, a lot of chapters are unedited please bear with me hhHH.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

Groaning out in discomfort, (Y/n) took the warm, moist wash-cloth and pressed it against her wound. 

Over the few hours she managed to scavenge for sleep, the slits had easily crusted over with dried blood. Formerly, she planed to ignore her battle-marks and hop into a steaming shower, but realizing her developing limp and over-all intense soreness throughout her entire body, she might as well prevent any infection. Having to clean away yellowish-green oozing puss was that much more of a nuisance, not to mention disgusting.

Spraying on a generous amount of disinfectant over the open flesh, she then wrapped and tightened a white gauze firmly over her ankle before securing it together. Leaning backwards, the psychic examined her work, she was no doctor and no undoubtedly would it fall apart at some point in the day, but it'll have to do for now.

"Oh, that's definitely going to scar!"

And how could she manage to forget her supportive friend?

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, spraying some more of her scratches. The scared tissue would _definitely_ be a wonderful way to relive her hellish escape through the forest. Hell, the thought of it made the room spin and her vision blur, Nathan would never step foot into that place again.

But she had to know.

"So..." she began, returning all the items into the medical kit "those things that were casing us, what were they?"

A simple question that she hoped he would answer without becoming in-debt with any favors. Bill truthfully gave her no reason to mistrust him, and assuming that the disembodied voice belong to him as well, then if anything else he had even helped her. Who else would have guided her to Nate? At least, she thought those were his intentions. So while he was not the most emotionally intelligent being out there, he had never harmed her before. That much was enough for her to start trusting him.

"Oh, _those_ things," it seemed as if he weren't too fond of them either "you humans call them Skincrawlers."

The suiting name came with a fairly vague answer, though she wasn't sure she wanted to learn more anyhow. 

"You know why they were chasing us, don't you?" finished, (Y/n) placed all of the items back into the medical kit.

And just like that, Bill was finished with that conversation. 

Twirling a black pen in hand, he expressed his child-like sass "wow you sure do ask a looot of questions, Princess! Just all the wrong ones," he examined the list he had written down. He didn't have the access available to restore his triangular form in all its glory, but luckily for him Oregon had the finest ingredients to follow through a secondary form with a "Plan B."

Thanks to his pre-planning, Bill also had a prophet to collect these said ingredients. All with a stupidly simple deal he whipped out at the last minute, it was bound to place her trust in his hands eventually, humans were always such simple creatures in his mind. Granted, had "time" been so generous, Bill would have stood by and injected himself early into his psychic lives and made sure their unbreakable loyalty was solely to him. Of course, the Pines and his new reign at the tips of his fingers made him make far too many mistakes.

He withheld a shiver of pure disgust-- no, he wouldn't allow failure again. 

At any costs he _will _see through his plans once more, and no pair of twins would be able to get in his way. Pluck apart every strand of the Pine's genes and destroy this entire town as well if he must, the entire world is his goal now. And if (Y/n) was useful to him, then Bill supposed she'd be able to find immunity in his glorious kingdom. Why destroy what he needs? It makes no sense. However, he was getting ahead of himself, his primary focus was replenishing and building loyalty. Then, to tear down the entire barrier.

"Alright" she glanced over his shoulder, eying him with a quirk of her brow "I'll ask a different question then, what are you writing down?"

"That's more like it!" scribbling down the last portions of his ingredients, Bill hopped from the bed and extended his arm in a ridiculous length, regaining his ability to float was also a highlighted want "consider these my favors, Princess. Naturally you'll get something in return~" not that he was oblivious to her main desire, normalcy. She'd written about the topic quite a few times in her journal. That concept went far above his comprehension, if anything she should have been considering herself lucky. One out of the cluster of 10 he had personally made into psychics wishing to be regular, if only she figured out how to hone these skills-- a little push won't do any harm. It'd be useful later on. 

Shame for her, his contract was done with her parents. Not that he'd be willing to break the deal anyhow.

(Y/n) took the list gingerly, her eyes narrowed as she went down the list. Blue Moon-Flowers, Bane Roots, Unicorn Hair, Phoenix Ashes, Diamond, and... Human blood. Air caught in her throat. Only three of those items seemed reasonable; the curious part of her was tempted to ask what all of this was for, Bill only gave her bits and pieces to work with and connect the dots, but if she was to collect human blood she wasn't so sure she'd want to know.

_"My guess is a ritual, but for what?"_ even if Bill was listening to her thoughts, he made no comment.

"This? This is what you want? Bill-- some of these don't even exist! Unicorn hair?"

"You really want to say that? You're talking to _me_ after-all."

Fair point.

She swallowed thickly, "and do I even want to know what the gallon of blood is for? What do you expect me to do, drain someone alive?"

He laughed. Bill laughed so hard that his golden glow practically put any other light in her room to shame. Truly, it was unique, such a strangely pitched and crooked tone is nearly one of a kind. It was more of a cackle really, disturbing and a tad bit hard on the ears, this might be something she simply has to adapt to, otherwise his chuckle would grow annoying. She's heard all ranges of snorts, giggles, and wheezing before but nothing like this. 

Eventually, whatever he found humorous died down.

Bill wiped a joyful tear from his eye, "oh~ that is rich, Princess! And here I thought you didn't know what a joke was."

Bill was also incredibly morbid, that was important for her to note.

"Look, I don't really care how you get these. Blood bank, murder, it's up to you!"

She sighed, unsure of how to even respond. Suddenly, it became fairly obvious that she wouldn't be finding Unicorn Hair or Phoenix Ashes at the local convince store. (Y/n) pressed her lips together, the deep claw-marks on her ankle began pulsing at the slightest thought of those woods, it's darkness, it's secrets, it's Skincrawlers were all too much for her, and to think one of those things came nearly a second close to ending them both. If she were to ever step foot in that place again, she'd bet good money that it wouldn't be anytime soon.

Bill would have to gather the rest on his own.

"I can get you _some_ of these, but if I have to go into the woods again then all bets are off."

His one eye narrowed at her slightly, almost in disbelief at her rejection. Honestly, the girl was in the best position he could have possibly placed her in, (Y/n) took some time to fetch something and he would give her a reasonable reward, a true answer, a dream, whatever it is the wanted. Worshipers would _die_ just to be in her shoes for a day. Instead, she chose to complain. Hell, had the situation been a little different Bill ought of made sure she's grateful.

Before he could say anything else, knocking as gentle as a whisper put their conversation on pause.

Standing up too quickly, (Y/n) whimpered quietly at the sharp pain in her ankle "just--just a second!" she was taking no chance in allowing her family to even catch a glimpse of Bill, scooping the triangular figure of energy in her hands, the pressure of time made the (h/c) haired girl hop towards the unmade bed with her good foot.

"_Hey!_"

"_Shh_" (Y/n) whispered softly; with Bill wedged snugly between two pillows, she tossed and briefly arranged a thin blanket to cover his entire form "_listen, just stay quiet for a minute, please. If we get found out now I won't be able to get anything_" she reasoned quietly, after what she heard to be some irritated grumbles coming from Bill, the entire room eventually found quietness. 

Seemed as if they saw eye-to-eye this time.

Another knock.

"It's open, Nate!" 

Wincing, (Y/n) ignored her aching body as she took a seat on the corner of her bed. Only one person ever knocked so timidly in this family, so faint that it would go unnoticed if she were listening to music. Squeaking softly, the hinges on her door cried out as the slab of dark wood pushed open to reveal her messy haired brother. 

Still in his pajamas, Nathan rubbed away the tiredness from his eyes and spoke groggily "(Y/n), I'm hungry..."

"Well, what did Mom and Dad leave to eat?"

He shrugged, "nothing, I checked."

(Y/n) kissed her teeth, _"figures that they'd leave me on breakfast duty"_ she thought. Curling her lips gently, she smiled at her little brother, no reason to take her frustrations out on him "no problem, let's go see what we have" what she really meant is was there anything to make breakfast out of.

And instantly, his spark of energy ignited "I think we've got the things for waffles!"

* * *

"Soo..." 

Responding with a slight hum in acknowledgement, (Y/n) poured the batter over the greased waffle iron and pressed it shut.

"Why are you walking so funny?" 

Placing her entire weight on her normal foot, she opened one of the old wooden cabinets and pulled out two tall, glass cups-- the kind that had unfortunately broke on their first day here; she had Bill to thank for that incident. Regardless, she still hadn't apologized to Nate for yelling at him the way she did, not that he seemed to hold a grudge against her. In all fairness (Y/n) was allowed to be spooked and jump to the most reasonable conclusion. For now she planed to keep silent, apologizing might lead to explaining Bill's existence.

And even now, she wouldn't know where to begin.

"It's called a limp, Nate." she corrected, buying herself some time to think.

"Oh, why are you limping?"

Siblings in general were always so incredibly nosy. Not like there was much privacy to begin with when dealing with a curious six year-old. As far as (Y/n) was concerned, they were forced to share just about everything they had, when they were both younger she hated that fact, always having to sacrifice her time and space just so Nathan could do what he wished. Quickly enough, she eventually learned that despite not having much personal time, they had each-other and closeness to make up for it. Hell, he even believed her when she explained her dreams and visions.

No, they were never abused nor neglected. But with traveling parents, the best (Y/n) and Nathan could take is the love they had to offer. The rest was solely on the eldest sibling. 

However being chased by a flesh-eating creature from pure nightmares was something Nate never needed to know.

"I accidentally twisted my ankle, it'll get better." taking her time, (Y/n) walked to the fridge and peered inside for the plastic gallon of milk. Grocery shopping needed to be done soon. "When did _that_ happen?" he questioned, innocent curiosity as his intentions. How (Y/n) loved Nathan dearly but there is such a thing as too many questions.

"Last night, when I was going to pee and do number two!"

His nose wrinkled playfully, followed by a giggled "eww!"

Too much information worked wonders. False information, granted but it was all the same in the larger-scale of things. Grinning at his reaction, (Y/n) took the nearly empty milk and poured somewhat of an even amount into both cups. As the remaining drops puddled into the glass, her (e/c) couldn't help but stare endlessly at the container. 

_"Can I really kill someone for their blood?"_ she thought _"duh, it's possible. But not right."_

Her soft lips pressed together into a fine-line, placing down the gallon.

There was no use in soul-searching for an answer. It had to be a flat-out no. Damn the entire deal if she must, but drugging an unsuspecting person and having to kill them someplace private just to fill a plastic jar was not worth the normalcy she wished for. No amount of answers could compare to a life. 

Then again, Nate needed someone normal to look after him, someone who wouldn't allow visions to get in the way, could it be difficult? ... She shook her head to clear that morbid thought. Disgusted that it was an actual consideration, even if it was for a brief second. (Y/n) didn't need another more secret to bury, not to mention the trauma. 

_"Blood bags? They wouldn't miss a couple pints,"_ she shook her head. Stealing from a hospital required a detailed plan and a partner, slim chance that Nathan will be dragged into this. Additionally, there was too much of a high-security.

Hunting was out of the question.

Besides, not one of her family members knew how to do that.

_ "There's nothing else I can do... Unless--"_

"I think the waffles are burning."

"_Shit!_" the curse slipped past her lips.

Ignoring the stinging pain, (Y/n) hurriedly slid over to the waffle-iron and released the clasp. Thick smoke trailed upwards from the pair of waffles, they had browned considerably over the otherwise light pastry, fortunately neither of the four had burnt completely. Something Nathan wouldn't be able to taste with an abundance of syrup and fruit. Taking a fork, she carefully took the squares and slid them onto a plate.

"It's fine, they're just a little toasty" reassuring him, (Y/n) allowed them to cool as she poured in another batch.

Her eyebrows furrowed together as a sudden thought appeared-- does Bill eat anything? Honestly, a silly question to fuss over, especially now. However as sarcastic, childish, and morally-concerning as the golden triangle was, (Y/n) had no intentions of starving him. If that was even possible to begin with. Also assuming that his stubborn ego wouldn't allow him to ask for food anyways, she'd have to willingly offer it to him.

_"Looks like I'm making two more-"_ internally, she sighed.

Eating breakfast had taken longer than intentionally planned. Mainly because Nathan's stomach seemed like a never-ending black hole, constantly requesting another set of waffles. Understandable, having soup for the past couple days as they settled in wasn't exactly the most fulfilling thing one could eat, not to mention how tiring it was quickly becoming, still his appetite was mildly concerning. 

From this day forward, (Y/n) hoped they would be eating actual meals, for both their sake's. 

Using a soap-soaked sponge, the remaining plate was furiously scrubbed from the sticky syrup before being placed under the warm, running faucet for a good wash. With the house being so old, there wan't even a dish-washer installed. Disgustingly enough, the sink would be stalled with used dishes because of it, it only made sense to prevent that as much as possible.

(Y/n) glanced behind her for a slight second, Nathan was still tapping away and glaring at his tablet. He must of been playing games, then he surely wouldn't notice and comment on what she was about to do.

Placing the clean plate aside, (Y/n) took the plastic gallon and began to rinse out any remaining milk in the jar, swishing in a circular motion and filling it up until the water poured out clearly. Apart of her was astound of her willingness to do this-- no, not willingness, more like the girl didn't have much of a choice.

A loud _**thump**_ above their heads caused them both to stop.

Nathan peered up from his screen with a quiver to his voice "(Y/n), what was that?"

_"Bill"_ she wanted to say, _"It's only Bill."_

Hopefully her all lies would end someday, but she had to say anything but that. Lies had the lovely privilege to eventually take it's toll, no matter how often one repeated and justified their reasons for it.

"Don't worry, something just fell from my room-- I bet it was my book, you know it, it's the really thick one with a bunch of codes."

Nearly unconvinced, Nathan couldn't help but press "are you sure it was that?" poor thing, he had always been such a large believer in the supernatural. Completely self-assured that phantoms and ghouls existed in the world, waiting in the dark, under the closet, in his bed, and in the bathroom mirror. The worst it had gotten was when he refused to sleep, claiming a pale woman was watching him from the corner of his room, in the end their parents had enough of him sharing beds. Since then, a night-light had to be plugged in, unless he was bunking with someone else-- that person being his big sister. It was a wonder where he even got such ideas from; for the longest amount of time, (Y/n) feared that he was exactly like her, only that he saw monsters instead of visions.

After months of sly investigations and carefully formed questions, that was debunked. Having him know Bill's existence and the details of last night would only make his phobia that much more worse.

Offering a reassuring smile, she sealed the deal "oh yeah, hey, would you like to go play outside for a bit? It's kinda nice out" with a million thoughts running through the young boy's mind, none of them left his pursed lips as he stood from his chair and whispered "okay..." the sandy-haired boy took the guarded tablet under his arm and slowly made his way through the back.

"Just make sure that I can see you! And don't go into the woods!" she warned.

The screen-door slammed behind him.

Sighing out forcibly, she took the cleaned gallon and a knife from the sink. With her other hand, (Y/n) handled the plate cold waffles as she limped by. Not even a day into his stay and the triangle was already stirring-up problems, perhaps leaving Bill to entertain himself in an enclosed room might not have been the brightest idea. Taking the time to work up the flight of creaking stairs; down the silent hallway, the only thing she could do was speculate and imagine what the entity had managed to knock over, wishing too hard it wasn't the laptop wasn't a victim.

Using a lesser empty hand, she twisted open the door.

Needless to say, the mess was jaw-dropping.

Devastated. Upset. Regret.

Only a few key-words that could possibly describe all motions the psychic was going through, but with widened eyes and tongue caught deep in her throat, having the ability to express her emotions was revoked by her own body. This might have been for the best, surely Nathan would have heard all the yelling and become unnecessarily mortified.

"Well, well, well, look who's finally back!"

He only cast his attention on her for a brief second before refocusing on his previous mission, throwing something behind his back.

Intense, red heat instantly overtook her entire (s/c) face. Even the tips of her ears burned like Hell. Parting her lips slightly to say _anything_, no words managed to leave out her frozen state. They would have stuttered out anyways; there was no doubt Bill would have his fun reminding her of it. And to think, she even went as far as making breakfast for Bill. Right about now, she had no issues in launching him back to the forest... Or hide for all of eternity in her bed-sheets and never show her face to him again-- that worked just as fine.

Bill had to know how hard her heart thumped at this moment.

"What's the matter? Cat clawed your tongue?" an obnoxious chuckle at his own joke.

Another pair of laced, black panties was thrown behind his back as if it were nothing, as if he had not even the slightest clue to what he was touching to begin with. If he did, it was obvious that he didn't care. Sadly, those only added to the pile of private wear, shirts, pants, and other clothes, clean clothes mind anyone-- he continued to rummage through the drawers regardless. 

Sheets of paper were scattered from the now empty shoe-box... What she assumed to be the loud thump earlier was correct, a thick book of codes sat beside the letters, her progress, her notes, journals, all of it decorated her wooden floor like a white, snowy winter.

"Bill..."

"The one and only~ don't wear it out, Princess" 

_Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths._

"What the actual fuck-- do you realize how long it'll take to clean this up? And--And stop throwing those around! You don't even know what you're touching! Also, don't call me kid!" no amount of deep breaths would save him now.

One thing for certain was that he was unaffected by her yelling. If anything, his general mood must of increased considerably at the attention. He must of not taken her seriously. Despite that, he dropped whatever was in his hand.

"Woah, there~ relax kid, sheesh-- you act like I don't have the right"

This time she glared, "since when did you have the right to trash my room?" the only thought replaying inside her mind was how hard her mother must have put all of this together, only for it to be ruined. (Y/n)'s chores were never usually done for her, but when they were, it was deeply appreciated.

"Hah! You really think mother-dearest put this together? C'mon kid, give me some credit"

...

An important aspect of his personality and skill completely left her mind, having no sense of privacy was awful enough. In the heat of the moment, she was stunned more than anything else. In a way, it almost hurt as well, leaving a bitter taste in her tongue knowing a glowing triangle had done what her mother would never had done. She swallowed thickly, she would not fuss over a silly thing. Just how he managed to rearrange her entire room from a stone prison was beyond her, though she meant to ask how he got there in the first place. Suppose it was the same situation with all of those letters. Closing her eyes, she heaved another sigh deep within her chest.

"Can you put it back, then?"

Rearranging the entire room back in order would be a wonderful way to make-up for the sheer humiliation of throwing her bras and waving around her panties. Not like he seemed to fully realize what those were. Unsurprisingly enough, Bill had zero intentions of wasting what he had left of his magic to a mortal's meaningless chore--

He changed the topic entirely, "I'm more interested in what's in your hands, Princess" amusement peaked in his voice.

Eyebrows furrowed together at his response, "of course" (Y/n) huffed and glanced around the room, piles of tossed clothes, scattered papers, disorganized desk, opened books and the additional of her unmade bed was roughly an hours work if she was determined enough. No use in yelling at Bill for it, he didn't seem to care.

The best thing for her room right now was keeping Bill busy, what on Earth he was looking for, she didn't want to know-- but rest assured that it was not wedged between her socks.

"Right, I brought you something to eat."

Naturally, he meant the milk gallon and knife in her hand, hell if she'd give him that satisfaction.

Pushing away some of the papers with her good foot, she set down the plate of waffles to the ground. Cringing from pain, she lowered herself next to the plate. Who knew when all the stiffness in her muscles would wear away. However priorities had to be taken care of and cleaning her room was on the bottom of her list, far more important things to check off before she let the anger change her mind or back away. 

If he weren't so incredibly childish and frustrating, the way he walked with those little black legs could of been adorable. (Y/n) wondered if it took any effort to balance himself with those, seeing as he had somewhat uneven proportions to his general size. Bill made no comment on her thoughts, thankfully enough. 

Briefly examining the stack of pastries, Bill rolled his one eye completely "oh boy, human food" he spat out plainly.

"What does that--"

He picked up the plate and turned it upside down, gravity forced the waffles smack onto the floor. What came next happened too quickly for her to react, there was may things that (Y/n) failed to think about Bill, for a perfect example, if he could eat, how did he do it? That question was answered horrifyingly. His one eye fell back into his shape only to reveal a large opening filled with pointed, sharp teeth and a narrow, snake-like tongue slick what what appeared to be saliva. Knowing Bill, it must of been an entirely different substance. Acid was a popular theory. Shoving the empty plate into his mouth, Bill chewed on the thing as the pieces shattered and crunched inside of him.

"You could of... Nevermind. You don't like human food, dully noted. Anything else you like?"

Swallowing the broken pieces of glass thickly, "oh~ nothing that you could get me in your lifetime, Princess."

At that point, (Y/n) questioned what the Hell her visions gotten herself into. A new mess of waffles was something she should have nagged him about had she not been so disturbed but his mouth.

Letting the conversation trail away, (Y/n) began undoing the bandage around her wrist-- the one where she had previously dug the box cutter in her palm. It made no sense to make an entirely new wound and have both hands guarded in gauze. So there was no issue in re-opening an already existing wound instead to spare her an additional scar. Positioning the sharp blade against her raw, unhealed slit. Bill spoke out in excitement before she could make the cut.

"See, now that's more like it! I knew you would come around eventually, Princess" 

"Don't get too excited. You're not getting everything today, I'd die before it even fills up."

Licking her lips in anticipation, she blurred out any background noise as Bill continued to ramble. Wedging the knife between the folds, she grunted uncomfortably at the sensitive flesh. Pressing the ends deep against the light cover of skin, (Y/n) bit back a loud whimper and blinked away tears that had begun welling in her (e/c) gaze. She was not willing to be embarrassed yet again because of Bill Cipher. Applying the same pressure, she dragged the blade downwards; sure enough a thick river of deep red follow it's trail.

Holding the mouth of the gallon up to her arm, the blood began puddling and collecting at the base.

Other than completely ignoring the request, this had to be the best plan in getting what Bill needed. Even if she questioned what the "ingredient" was for, the only answer she'd hear is a confusing, indirect response or worse yet, none at all. Estimated, waiting exactly a week between each filling to regain her blood levels and strength had to span more than a month or so, a painfully long process, more so for (Y/n) than Bill. In any case, this plan was far more appealing than becoming a slave to murder or robbing from a hospital.

(Y/n) almost laughed.

_Not even a day in and she was already bleeding for Bill._

_ Again._

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

** Bill **was a handful, that much was an understatement.

In (Y/n)'s own experience, caring for him was the equivalent of running a full-on day-care center.

It was difficult to keep him entertained long enough to avoid having her room torn to the last nail. Quite literally as the psychic had discovered when she had, once again, left him to his own devices while she spent the time with her family.

Rules genuinely meant nothing to him, always doing whatever he pleased without any consequences in mind. He'd be right, no matter how many times Bill would make a mess of things, it was difficult for (Y/n) to punish him in both moral and physical standards. It all backfired anyway. And when he spoke, Bill had absolutely no filter or any regards to emotional damage to his words. The worst so far had been the casual, but sharp insults against (Y/n)'s otherwise small ego.

In Bill's mind, (Y/n) was below him. Openly expressing this in actions rather than words, she was convinced it was simply apart of his general attitude. Which is why his brutal jabs and inconsiderable ways were shrugged off by default. 

On the first few nights of his stay, Bill was persistent in talking to her about almost everything. Babbling on whatever amused him, mostly, the teen took the time to listen, nod along, and comment-- to which really only fueled his need to continue. It was nice to converse with him in some ways, however, when he decided to poke and prod her awake at ungodly hours in the morning to remind her that humans are such limited creatures is when she crossed the line and eventually reasoned with him to take it to the Mindscape. 

As he so matter-of-factly explained to her the wonders of his home when she called them "dull dreams" (she felt awful then). Regardless, at times he'd still keep her up, deep into the morning's forbidden hours and stupidly enough she'd allow it, not sure when to properly stop him.

Either way, (Y/n) was the one having to put with his chaos.

She would have compared him to a puppy, high-maintenance, sharp teeth, and no boundaries. But at the very least a puppy offered unconditional love, loyalty, and sweet kisses for all the troubles. All Bill repaid her with was sass and sleep deprivation. She only became aware of her grogginess when her family teased her for the growing, dark bags underneath her strained (e/c) eyes.

Suppose some of his trouble had been because of her, after all, she did practically imprison him in her room. He must have been itching to get out. It was hard enough having to keep a secret this big from her family, not because of a moral dilemma, she would much rather fear her parents-- or worse yet, Nate, run into Bill. She could maintain the white-lies and secrets for as long as Bill played his part and at least tried to stay out of sight. Eventually, she realized the unfairness of the situation and already considered to let Bill roam every once and a while, when the coast is clear that was.

For the sake of (Y/n)'s sanity, she reminded herself that her new room-mate was only temporary.

Although, she had to admit it wasn't all too bad.

As far as company and entertainment go, Bill was more than sufficient. Hell, she'd even go as far as saying he's a life-mystery. In his better moods where he went undisturbed, (Y/n) had the chance to sneak in a question or two and her curiosity would be satisfied for a while. At times he'd spew out random bits of incomplete information-- out of pure boredom, she was willing to bet. He'd gesture towards the sky and tease that humans have the meaning of stars all wrong, or look down from her window-sill and cheerfully say, "hey, if you fell from here right now, I know exactly which bones you would break!" morbid things were said more often when he became aware of (Y/n)'s mixed reactions. Disgusted, fearful, and nervous were his favorites.

She was not such a big fan of the comments, but it came with the package.

There were certain lines that weren't meant to be crossed. Not only were they unclear, but predicting how the golden triangle would react was next to impossible. Somehow, it felt like constantly walking on egg-shells around him or standing at the very edge of a cliff, not knowing when it would give away under her weight. Thankfully, when it came to reading social cues, (Y/n) was anything but an idiot, of course, maintaining a good reputation to mask your abnormality came with that skill. So when Bill rolled his eye, went quiet, or simply ignored her, it was a glowing sign that read "stop."

Truthfully, she didn't know what to think of him.

Especially now, when she was sitting directly across from him, surrounded by fields of colorless flowers. Some, she discovered, had the lovely instinct to reveal a hidden mouth and snip at her ankles whenever she passed by, it was no bigger than a book but regardless she was still caught off-guard when the thing got a firm lock onto her skin. Hell, she could still remember the way it's jagged-teeth broke into her. Uprooting the damn thing was an entire blur, though Bill was sure disappointed when she killed one of his favorite plants.

_Bill snapped his fingers._

Jumping in her seat, (Y/n) blinked and brought herself back to reality. Her mind must have wondered.

"Hey, are you even listening?" he spat.

She pressed her soft lips together, "I--I... Well, I must have dozed off."

"Yeah, that's obvious" he scoffed, "is your fragile mortality really that amusing? Hah, well it is to me~ but come'on, I'm more interesting."

And there it was.

(Y/n) squirmed in her seat at his comment; out of all the things Bill Cipher does, what got to her the most is the mind-reading. Completely embarrassing, more so when he made snide comments. It came to the point where she even had to watch whatever came into her mind. All of those times (Y/n) asked for him to stop was useless, it encouraged him if anything else. With the coyest tone in his voice, he defended that mind-reading only came naturally to him. _Bullshit_.

Swirling the transparent eye-marked cup, (Y/n) took a gentle sip from the steaming tea and placed it snugly into her lap. Coffee was more of her preference, but it was difficult to go wrong with herbal.

Leaning forward and moving a Bishop closer to her target, (Y/n) subconsciously hummed in response-- more than likely to avoid an argument. Centered in the meadow, a cup of tea in hand, and an unfinished chess game was the closest thing to peacefulness she was going to get with Bill. Aside from his constant rambling that was. 

Almost instantly, he made another move.

This time it swallowed (Y/n)'s King whole, having a small '_ah_' escape her lips.

"Oh come on, Princess. You had to see that coming, you had the King unguarded for an entire second!"

"Well, people don't usually win that quickly" she grumbled, the pieces resetting themselves in an aura of blue, his blue that is.

"You _really_ think that applies to me?" he said, almost offended "even that genius gave me more of a challenge"

At first she blinked-- not quite sure if she had heard him right; then a small grin pulled back her lips. Sure, (Y/n) knew her way around the chessboard for a fairly decent game, not at a skill where she'd challenge Bill but if she was the master of anything, it had to be words. He had to of meant someone specific by "that genius," it was only fair for her to tease him at least this once, just as he had been brutally been doing all this time.

"Woah, didn't realize you had friends" a playful, risky, jab. "Who's this genius you're talking about?"

Satisfied, she advanced her white pawn forward and when his play wasn't instant-- she glanced up at him, both eyebrows raised. His expression (the most a single eye could make) gave away his unhappiness. Nothing cute, teasing, or easy-going about it. Silence was the last clue to her mistake. To say the least, this wasn't the first time he'd been upset with her, or rather, something she said. Usually, it was always something overly petty, not that it made things any easier. 

The satisfaction died away and was replaced with the regret, hurting Bill was the last of her intentions. Whoever it was, there was definitely bitter memories tied to them. _"Way to go, (Y/n). Way to go" _she scolded herself.

Bill's one eye _glared_ at her, unblinking and unchanging from his narrowed lids.

Granted, he hadn't tried to kill her, at least not yet. What would be the use in a dead psychic?

Magically, the cup of tea in her lap disappeared.

"Let's get one thing straight," the chess-board dissembled into particles "not a _single_ ape from that family is my friend, _got it_?" Bill correct, firm and clear.

It was difficult for Bill not remember his defeat. It was the stupidity and plainness of it all that got to him, sure, he was too eager-- wouldn't anyone if they were living out a blissful prophecy? Bill should have won. He blamed the Pines and their cheap tricks, he blamed the barrier that kept his Weirdness from spreading. Hell, he blamed everyone including the idiocy of his "friends." In the end, there was no grand-finale, neither a large "bang" to go along with him, nothing but a brittle and cracked statue over-grown with nature. Well, that wasn't his case anymore.

Even if it took sacrifices, Bill will get what he wants.

There was only a list to follow. His powers, tearing down the barrier, and finally re-launching Weirdmeggadon (successfully). No doubt that it would take a while, at the very least he had a psychic to use at his advantage. First he needs her full cooperation, not a problem, he's gained human trust before. 

This time, no Pines would stop him.

After all, what was a simple human to a _god_?

Stunned, (Y/n) nodded at his harsh words and an uncomfortable silence followed it. Where even the shakiest of breath would knock over an angry, unpredictable line of dominoes. On the other hand, how was she supposed to know where the boundary line was?

Somehow, she found the courage to apologize, in hopes to makeup for her mistake.

"Bill, I didn't-" 

"Glad that was cleared up!" in any case, he didn't want her pity. With a flick of his wrist, the cushioned chair beneath her disappeared. Appearances were really getting in his way of replenishing energy, but even the slightest of seeming drained and vulnerable was pathetic, especially in front of something so weak as a human. From this day forward (Y/n) simply have to sit on the floor. 

Landing with a firm smack on the ground, (Y/n) groaned, almost tempted to rub her aching rear.

"You could of given me a warn-- never mind,"

"Kid, don't start complaining about every small detail" Bill dropped to the ground, ungraceful and barely maintaining his balance "break time's over!"

_"Break time?" _her thoughts echoed.

Slowly, the world around her spun and her vision began to dot the colorless meadow with black. One of these days, she swore she'd forget if she was falling asleep or waking **up**.

* * *

A loud wave of applause is what brought (Y/n) back to reality.

Gasping softly, (Y/n) straightened her back and held her breath, looking around in panic.

Being surrounded by strangers in seats wasn't the most relaxing way to wake up. Well, not all were exactly strangers. She recognized a few more... Unique people she has seen in town. Much like the woman with one abnormally lazy eye, "Lazy Susan" was a particularly rude name but she didn't seem to mind it at all. Her and plenty of others didn't explain much. But they all faced forward where a much more rounded man, dressed in a nice, grey suit muttered the last of his "thank you's" into a microphone. He stood on the center of the stage, an uncomfortably bright spotlight glared down and isolated him further. It took her a second, for a moment (Y/n) forgot where she was.

It hit her like a truck.

Warmth pooled in her cheeks and thankfully it was too dark for anyone to see the reddening tint.

She was at her high-school conference, the parental part of it at least.

"_(Y/n)_" mother's voice was to the left "don't tell me you fell asleep during that" harsh whispers easily got lost in the surrounding noise.

The psychic hummed and rubbed the soreness underneath her eyes, wincing when the overhead lights turned on too quickly above their heads. Whoever operated the lights needs extensive training-- or better yet, a new person in general. Gravity Falls is a small town but the options couldn't be _that_ limited. Blinking and squeezing her eyes tightly, her vision slowly adjusted to the harsh change of brightness. No one else seemed to be equally bothered.

Must have been her raw sensitivity. At the very least, "Gravity Falls High-school" needed more comfortable seats in their auditorium, folding metal chairs didn't work any wonders to her already sore ass.

Chairs in the Mindscape were far more comfortable than this.

_"The Mindscape... Oh crap, Bill!"_ she thought, grateful that no one else in this room had the ability to read minds.

Pulling back the flaps to the leather satchel, (Y/n) peered into the larger pocket. Bill sat there, eye half-lidded and his hat flopped and creased towards one side, arms crossed and his golden glow dulled into a fading light. Needing to sleep was completely out of the question, never once did (Y/n) see Bill sleep during the countless hours together. At times he'd close his eye, lean back onto one of her throw pillows and relax. Nothing more than that as he didn't seem to need it.

In hindsight, Bill out of all things should not be worthy of sympathy. Which was something he would never ask for, still, heaviness tugged at (Y/n)'s heart seeing anyone like this. Gathering a few of the items on the list didn't seem such an awful idea now, to be fair, the gallon of blood was still being filled. Problem was, tissue around the slit was proving to be too raw and sore for her palm. Not pretty to re-open barely healing wound.

Bill spared her an unamused glance.

She closed the flap before he could speak, too many people surrounded them. If anyone heard his vulgar words, there was no possible way for her to come up with a quick and believable explanation.

The noise around them began to settle down slowly, clapping ceased one by one until all that remained was slight shuffling, incomprehensible whispers and murmured responses among one another. Someone clear in the back forced a harsh cough through their throat. Is there a possible way _not_ to cringe? (Y/n)'s nose wrinkled upwards at the dead silence, whoever stood on stage shuffled and chuckled nervously, noticeable beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. His graying hair began to slick onto his shining skin because of it.

This reminded (Y/n) of her very first homecoming back home, all night she had been trying to scrape up as much small-talk as possible, only to be shut down with short and timid responses. Punch was spilled on her dress and when her date invited her onto the dance-floor for a waltz, the poor guy barely knew how to move his feet in the first place. Always stepping on her own or stumbling in the wrong direction. Looking back on it now, that night was a disaster, perfect for comical relief and sleep-over stories.

"Well, uh-- thank you for coming, folks! It was really nice having you here for our fall conference! If there's any questions or concerns please contact or stop by my office, have a good afternoon!" eagerly, the rounded man left the stage.

People began to rise from their seats, adjusting the shoulder strap to her satchel, (Y/n) stood and stretched her back as well.

"So... Principal Bunberry seemed like a very nice man" Claire chose her words carefully, nearly fearful that their good moods will slip away bitterly.

"Hmm," (Y/n) mused, gently straightening her tangled hair "he's very good at public speaking."

Claire rolled her eyes, "yes and you were a very attentive listener."

_Unnecessary. _

The mother brushed off her pencil skirt before offering a gentle smile "just try to give this place a chance, okay? It's a fresh start" (Y/n) only felt obligated to nod along her words, as that was their entire reason in moving to Gravity Falls. Not that her Mother wasn't wrong in her thinking-- it was all plainly easier said than done. "Look, don't even worry about enrolling, I'll take care of it with Principal Bunberry, why don't you go and explore for a bit?"

Anything was better than having to sit idly by in an office, watching as her Claire fills out uncomfortably long packets of papers. Either way, (Y/n) was betting that she'd be in class starting Monday. Might as well make this weekend as blissful as she possibly could.

"Okay, don't know if I can go far though" agreeing with her Mother's logic, she stalked off quickly into the departing crowd. Anymore stalling and the psychic was sure that Bill would throw another fit.

"And make sure your phone is on!" Claire called after her daughter, to which, was already walking away from her. The last Claire saw was a mess (h/c) hair, swaying and gently becoming a melting pot with others attending the ceremony. And so, with the loud clack of her heels, she also turned and strutted towards the principals direction.

* * *

What more could someone say about the _only_ high-school in town?

Unlike her old school, chandeliers or sophisticated lighting didn't illuminate the halls and brighten the rooms. Not that she could venture inside the classrooms, all of those doors have been locked for the night. She didn't have the intention of going inside anyway. If she glanced upwards, years worth of puddled rain-leakage marked the ceiling; blotches of unknown substances varying in different shapes and sizes stained the walls. At the very least, the flooring glistened with wax where shoe-marks have made their imprint.

Hardly anything decorated the halls to give it life. Granted, there were some motivational posters, upcoming school events, and a quite a few "don't do drugs" propaganda. Nothing that really caught (Y/n)'s attention. The only thing that really made the school stand out was the personalized lockers, a few of which had dents but nothing to fuss about.

While it was nothing (Y/n) was used to, she wouldn't start complaining now.

"Well... It's--It's something, I guess."

"Did you really expect anything out of this hick town?" having been emerged from the satchel, Bill was regretting coming along in the first place.

After her last few experiences of cleaning Bill's aftermath of complete boredom, there was no possible chance (Y/n) would have even considered leaving him all to his lonesome in a new house. No one looked forwards to sweeping pieces of glass and wiping down the counter-tops for hours, only to sit down on shredded couches. 

"I didn't exactly expect you either, but hey" she turned the corner "you know I've been meaning to ask, in your visions, there's always these... Symbols surrounding you, what are they?"

"Princess, you keep asking the wrong questions," examining his non-existent nails, he avoided her question.

She couldn't help but sigh. There was always something that Bill was unhappy with. He fully knew what she meant, he just enjoyed pushing her buttons.

Without even realizing, (Y/n) wound up further away than where she expected herself to be. Only reason that she stopped is because she hit a dead-end, otherwise known as the gymnasium. Quickly slipping her phone out her back pocket, she glanced at any notifications. Few were casual reminders from games and one was a message from an old friend. She'd respond to them later.

There wasn't a single missed call from her mother.

As far as she was aware, they're still good to go.

Contrary to the other rooms (Y/n) has seen, the gym was actually lit and looked as if it were being used. Curiosity got to the best of her, standing on the edge of her toes, she peered through the wired glass. It was hardly a surprise seeing future classmates walking about, carrying boxes, hot-gluing together scraps of paper and hand-made items. Soft murmurs of conversations and giggles were audible from where she stood.

Obviously, they're building a project.

(Y/n) glanced around, large floats lining up together so neatly in threes was impossible to miss. All of which were decorated differently, varying in color-schemes, decorations, lengths of paper, and exceptionally diverse main attraction. One being the school mascot, the other a large scare-crow made with potato bags and large stick, and the final being a throne. If there was anything in common between the three, it had to be the Fall Theme. Neither of them were professionally made, but they were exceptional to high-school standards.

The throne made of floral decor is what really caught (Y/n)'s attention, each flower, from deep wine to sunny-orange hues were all aligned perfectly in a symmetrical balance. Though out of place with the theme, the Christmas Tree lights tethering around the float's base was a fairly nice touch. To prevent withering, she was sure most-- if not all, had to be fake, but from a distance they looked incredibly real. Spray-painted in a glittery gold, a regular chair has been transformed into a work of art, with streaming lines of beads and, of course, more flowers.

It was nothing too marvelous, but it was clear this particular float had been made with far more effort.

A generously filled bouquet rested on the throne... Something familiar was made it.

Shame, this one time (Y/n) needed her journal, it was left at home.

"Bill... Doesn't that look like those Blue-Moon flowers?" she rested flat on her feet.

After showing even the slightest interest in a single ingredient, Bill had eagerly flipped open to one of her empty pages and drawn, in surprisingly very good detail, one of the items he asked for. She remembered how he profoundly expressed the importance of "getting it right or else it'll screw everything up." Naturally, the drawing was nothing more than a blue-print, but it would be nice to have hanging from her wall in the future.

In short, the item was simply put so unique that anyone would recognize it. Much like Bill's voice.

His one eye rolled "Right, because a Blue-Moon flower would be here, where human minds rot away."

With the hallways being void of any other people, (Y/n) gently placed her hands around his steep sides and rose Bill's triangular body up to the wired glass-panes. Sure, it was far-fetched, finding a supposed magical flower smack in the middle of her new school was odd, strange, even downright unbelievable despite their current situation. But, she wouldn't have mentioned something if she wasn't sure. What harm would it do to take a peek anyway?

"Hey! Kid, you've got to stop picking me up like I'm some sort of--"

Ceasing his pointless struggles and thrashes in her firm hold, Bill's voice trailed off gently into quietness.

"Is it what you need?" she asked quietly.

Silence.

"Princess... I don't _care _if you have to tear down that crappy float, unless you want to wait another year, you'll be stealing that flower"

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

"Are you sure you wanna go?"

"Mom, it's barely even drizzling outside. I'll be fine."

Adjusting the cloudy blue jacket around her, (Y/n) pulled the zipper up to her chest. Having spent the entire Friday school-shopping and, once again, reevaluating her morals, there wasn't much more to do other than blasting through Saturday in comfortable pajamas and streaming Netflix with Nate. It was a real mystery how he could never grow tired of re-watching the same cartoons. If it hadn't been for the Mindscape, (Y/n) was sure she would have dreamed of Transformers.

However, now that today is Sunday, the unfortunate reality of school beginning tomorrow was weighing on her mind. More importantly, how the hell she'd manage to keep Bill from revealing himself for the entire academic year is the biggest concern yet. Carrying him around through the long seven hours of classes would only further drive him to madness and leaving a disaster-prone entity alone in a room was self-explanatory. From here, she could hear his complaints. There was no winning with Bill, only compromise.

"Well if you're so sure," Claire sliced another piece of chicken "the money is in my purse, we only need half-and-half and cheese-- you know which one, right?"

(Y/n) hummed in response, treading over towards the couch. With Nathan recovering from a late-night, Oscar organizing left-over boxes in the basement, and Claire preparing dinner. The only company she had was the internet, which was finally installed, and a glowing triangle hiding inside her satchel. Though, suppose she should have known better than to assume he'd stay put.

"Umm, yeah!" her eyes widened, trying to mask the sudden pitch in her voice.

She should have known better, it was only natural Bill would jump at the first chance to cause trouble. That being the opportunity to break away from a leather bag. All it really took for everything to unravel was her mother peering out into the living room, Bill must have known that.

Without a care in the world, he leaned back leisurely on the sofa. Not that he'd suddenly disappeared, there was far too many things to discuss for him to go exploring in a mediocre home anyway. As long as he was in her line of sight _and_ in arms length, there was no reason to shove him inside her satchel just yet.

Provoking his constant chatter by saying something isn't such a good idea... 

Instead, she shook her head in disapproval; Bill folded his legs in content. He didn't care.

Letting herself fall on the cushioned seats, (Y/n) bent down and gently rolled on thick, grey socks. For a moment, she stopped to examine the claw-marks on her ankle, regardless they were still healing. Swelling had stopped a few days ago, leaving her to walk about freely without a limp, pain was still persistent but nothing that couldn't be ignored. When the injury oozed a clear and runny substance, that's when she became disgusted, even if it's considered a good sign. But, seeing as it was beginning to scab over and bleeding stopped, gauze was no longer needed.

Still, if she rolled her foot the wrong way or pushed the limits-- pain taught her the lesson.

A shiver ran up (Y/n)'s spine as she started to slip on her boots. No way would she live through another nightmare like that again.

"I think about twenty dollars should cover it!" her mother called from the kitchen.

Instantly jumping to life, Bill stood from his seat and hopped over to the coffee table only inches away. Floating over would have been more preferable, not to mention simple and less work. Still, he made do with what he could and tried not to loose his balance in the process of it. Patience was not one of his virtues, but seeing as there were no other cards at hand to play, Bill would have to wait and push for his powers.

Ridiculous really, with a snap of his fingers he should of had his prophet playing as a loyal soldier the instant he broke free from his stone prison. In his vision, she obeyed every task as he pulled the red-strings of fate, plotting, deceiving, building towards his grand-return.

Yet, here he was, rummaging through her mother's purse. Searching for useless dollars and credit-cards. Nothing that would be useful once he truly takes over this dimension.

"_Bill_" she whispered harshly.

He ignored her.

"_Bill, what are you doing_" her voice grew lower as she pulled the satchel's strap over her head.

He was in no mood to be carried around again, albeit it did save them both precious time. Bill didn't really appreciate being thrown around and hidden like a rag-doll.

"_Isn't this what you're looking for, Princess~_" practically grinning, Bill held up a silver credit-card and waved it around in the air. All he was really looking for was her priceless reactions, those were the only entertainment he got.

Sighing, (Y/n) shook her head and gently pried the piece of plastic from his hands. Drawing out a twenty-dollar bill from the wallet instead, she folded the paper in half and placed it into a snug pocket of her blue jacket. Not wanting to afford anymore talking, she held up the leather satchel up to Bill's height. Shaking it gently, eye-gestures from him to the bag were all that was needed.

And Bill was having none of it.

"_Listen, Kid_" he crossed his arms "_I'm not getting in that thing_"

One of these days, Bill was bound to give her a migraine.

"Hey, hon! Are you talking to someone over there?"

(Y/n) froze. Fingers curled tightly around the leather bag and the temptation to shove Bill inside was far too strong-- the only thing stopping her was the attitude she'd be bound to face later on. Whatever words she chose next would make or break all of the efforts, exhaustion, and time it took to keep Bill hidden.

Frustration couldn't help but bubble silently, Bill was glowing in amusement and it put the stars to shame. She could just about hear the chalked chime in his voice, teasing _"you better think of something quick, Princess~" _and there was absolutely no time for it.

"Mmm, no! It's just a video," standing up, she took the triangle under her arm and hurried over to the front door. Being so careful as to not harm his single eye, of course.

"Okay, I'm leaving now" quick fingers unlocked the front door as she kept Bill shielded from sight with her entire body "bye!" 

Before she could hear her mothers response, the door closed shut behind her as soon as they stepped out.

Practically running down the porch steps and leaping onto the narrow gravel path, a heavy sigh of stress escaped her lips. Wincing when she laded too harshly, a jolt of pain shot up her leg. Of course something would happen to it now, just as it was finally beginning to heal. At this rate, her ankle would be similar to her poor, raw palm. Inhaling sharply, she resisted the urge to curl up and cradle her foot. Being teased was not on her agenda.

Instantly, Bill struggled free from her weak grasp-- satisfied at the lengths the (s/c) human went to keep their cover. She wasn't soldier-ready quite yet, but this was a good start as any. It also came to show that he could still get what he wanted, all it took was timing and slight arm twisting.

"See? That wasn't too hard," climbing onto her shoulder, Bill leveraged her head for support.

Groaning and rolling her ankle in soft circles, (Y/n) forced out a reply "I would _really_ appreciate if you didn't pull things like that."

"You don't have to be so passive-aggressive," he re-adjusted his bow tie-- not much he could do for his drooping hat, much to his dismay "besides, you think I like being tossed and carried around?"

Once the pain faded away into a bearable level, she continued to walk. Thankfully, the limp hadn't returned because of her recklessness. A light drizzle of rain freckled on her exposed skin, forming dew-drop against her (h/c) strands of hair. Nothing she'd need a hefty coat for, but the chill and brisk wind that followed made her wonder if Bill needed some coverage. Hell, this cloudy-blue sweater was just enough to keep her from shivering.

From the corner of her eyes, she tole a quick glance at him,

Bill didn't seem to be effected by the weather...

Looks like being a sarcastic, devious triangle had perks.

An earthy aroma is what calmed down her nerves, as strange as it sounded, wet Earth was a blessing. Going rural had it's nice perks, for one, crisp air would replace the smoke and puddles of rain substituted for colorful garbage water. Gravity Falls was nothing like home, but admittedly, it was much more beautiful when it came to scenery and nature.

"It's not that I want to put you in there," moist gravel crunched underneath her "there's just no other option, but hey if you got some ideas" her voice trailed off, leaving space for an answer.

And oh, did he have many ideas he'd rather opt for. One of his personal favorites being possession, the only major issue being that he didn't have the energy to take over for very long and the end result would be having to share a vessel. Something he wasn't happy about. Even if being trapped inside the body of a teenage girl was bound to have better odds than a tween who hardly took care of himself or a middle-aged man, Bill wasn't too eager about sitting through mundane tasks. School being one of them.

Besides, possession required a "yes" and at the moment an answer close to that wasn't plausible.

In other words, Bill was stuck this way. At least until of all the ingredients are gathered.

"Touche, Princess" cat-like pupil followed the quaking aspen as they passed by.

A fulfilling silence with Bill Cipher was rare above anything else. Usually, it'd be spent on awkward tension or simply just, him. That wasn't the case at the moment. Birds chirped softly and huddled together for warmth, nothing else other than a gentle wind swayed and rustled the branches. Squirrels collected fallen nuts behind the sea of browning, warm-hued leaves and shedding bushes. Clouds over-took the sky, a warning from an approaching a rain storm.

No reason should it be the last, Winter was a few months away.

(Y/n) couldn't help but smile, for the first time in a while her mind was completely at ease. Blank from any personal worries, school? Visions? Hiding Bill? Deals? Momentarily, those didn't exist. At least not now.

Another inhale of the sharp, woodland air sent a shiver of down her spine and added a much more delightful spring to her step.

By now, (Y/n) would have urged Bill to go back inside the satchel. Would have. What stopped her was this complete tranquility of a moment that passed so easily over a person's head. Who or whatever Bill was is beyond her, all the psychic knew was she had a vision about him; now, there was an obligation to help. Plainly out of the goodness of her own heart, still, Bill sure was giving her a nice run for her money testing her patience, morals, and whatnot.

Regardless, he did make a very fair argument. He's a living, unknown, being and should be treated like one. Sure, she'd wish that he'd follow that advice from time to time. Right now, her mood was far too good to be tampered with, what harm could possibly come from letting Bill stretch his legs? The road to town was somewhat of a long one anyway.

"Princess. Take a right, I know a short-cut to town"

Confused, she stopped and turned her head to glance right.

An unmarked path straight into the woods... Bill must of been joking. 

Pursing her lips together in a tight line, there was a certain feeling of tightness constricting around her throat. She couldn't help it- those hellish, bony creatures are hiding in the shadows waiting for another chance to strike was too real. They would win this time, she was so sure of it. _They'd tear her apart with so little effort and swallow her in pieces._ As the ground seemed unstable and spinning, her body swayed with it; she nearly stumbled over but luckily caught herself in time.

Blinking away the stars and geometric patterns in her vision, staring into the woods with those thoughts have become too much. (Y/n) looked ahead where the narrow path continued, still, the sickness inside of her stomach remained. Automatically, the answer is no.

Quietly, she inhaled a short breath and continued walking despite the sudden lightness in her head.

"Hey!" his eye squinted "what are you, directionally challenged? I said take a right."

"No... I just think staying on the path would be a better idea," she explained.

Picking up the pace, (Y/n) resisted looking over her shoulder. It was a natural instinct, one that she would have typically scoffed off during horror-films, and yet her mind urged her to submit to the overused cliche of looking back in moments when it was the worst you could do. When the monster the character was so keen on running from was covered from the shadow's shade, sitting, waiting to strike. 

"Come on, don't tell me it's because of those Skincrawlers, they weren't _that_ bad."

_ "I almost died and they weren't that bad?"_ she thought, refusing to actually answer.

Silence was all Bill needed.

At this point it seemed like circumstances were working too hard against him. Given any other situation, he would have enjoyed seeing humans traumatized in their own illusions of fear. But now, his prophet was practically sick from even looking into the woods, no doubt this will be an issue. Sure, the unmarked path shaved off a few minutes from the road, however, it also coincidentally walked into one of the Phoenix's alleys. Naturally, Bill left that detail out.

(Y/n) missed a chance to check off one of the time-sensitive items on the list.

"Alright, kid-- yeesh" he huffed out, sitting down on her shoulder to cross his arms.

Silence, this time around it was more tense. Peacefully walking into town seemed like too much to ask for.

Still, once her paranoia settled and (Y/n) had to reassure herself that no Skinwalker would come out in broad daylight to play their revenge for the box-cutter, she glanced over her shoulder to see Bill. The only times he'd really go quiet was when he was bored or annoyed. Something she learned fairly quickly in sharing so much time together.

Problem is, she wasn't sure if Bill having a slight reddish tint to his yellow is normal. Genuinely, the hue appeared to be a lighter version of a more orange shade. A happy color no less, but when it came to Bill things went more towards... A weirder direction.

Her eyebrows arched in surprise.

Clearly, he was annoyed. Enough for him to change colors.

Either way, (Y/n) preferred his every-day yellow. Much more reassuring. Not that he offered any of that in the first place. How does she even begin going about lightening Bill's mood? A human and a glowing triangle were two very different subjects. What would work? Cruel jokes? Good news? She had to try.

"You know, since tomorrow is Monday I'll be bleeding for you again," she paused briefly "I'm starting to think murder might be an easier option" forcing a nervous chuckle, part of (Y/n) was nearly appalled by her words. Had it not been for the sake of Bill, guilt and disgust would of weighted on her morals.

Still, the orange tint remained and his narrowed eye focused away from her.

"I uhm... Was also thinking about the flower. At first I wasn't so sure-- but then I thought, "no one will notice a couple flowers from a float made of em' so I plan to join the club they're in and just snatch it, nice and simple" she updated, granted, stealth in such a populated and open area would take nothing less than talent and skill but that information was left out.

More silence...

The urge to throw her head back and groan, loudly, was too powerful.

_"Well, at least I tried something..."_ she reasoned with herself, figuring that in the end it might be best to let him cool off on his own. Thankful that Bill didn't take the opportunity to lash out.

A familiar, chalky voice forced out a "good" and nothing more than that.

No, nothing like his usual self. Still, he spoke and (Y/n) would take what she could get.

* * *

A good, obedient daughter would have only gotten the two items and head straight home.

A more realistic, sweet-toothed daughter would add Oreos and cupcakes into the grocery basket. Oatmeal with brown-sugar muffins reasoned with her appetite but the colorful, frosted moist goodness won her over easily.

With twenty dollars to spare who could have resisted adding in a couple snacks? 

(Y/n) picked up a bag of salted potato chips, making slight observations as she flipped it from the front to the back. Obviously, a knock-off brand with a cheap design and saturated colors. Shrugging, she placed them along-side her groceries as well. If their taste wasn't the same, then it had to be similar to the original produce, additionally, it also saved her a dollar and ten cents.

Somewhere in her mind, (Y/n) mentally made note of how she should also pick up a few healthier options along the way.

Satisfied for now, she stepped away from the shelves stocked with fatty-foods and looked around for anything more that caught her attention. It would be her last item, as she didn't want to surpass her twenty-dollar limit. But seeing the array of processed foods and sweets made her crave a few other options. Thankfully enough, the Super-Mark in Gravity Falls was just about as identical as the many other large grocery food chains around the nation. Nothing too special and nothing too different.

That included the board of flyers and the close-by tourist attractions.

Humming with slight interest, (Y/n) took a few steps close to examine them.

"The world's largest ball of yarn...? Upside-down town...? Huh," she talked to herself silently, knowing Bill was listening. It was obvious they were all tourist traps, or at the very least amusing attractions to see when passing by. At the very least they were all a good couple of hours away from each-other, but one of them seemed to be right in town.

**"****Step right in to the Mystery Shack!**

** Enter a world full of the weird unknown.**

** Where the mysterious is captured and unseen.**

** Tour fee for children is five-dollars and ten for adults.**

** You'll never be the same again."**

(Y/n) winced. An eerie and... Expensive way to end an advertisement, suppose that's what the owners were going for. Getting by in such a small town must of been difficult enough.

She glanced down at her satchel, her mind immediately going towards the glowing triangle, who was hopefully back to his regular yellow. (Y/n) would safely say that she has seen her fair share of this so called "weird unknown." Part of her wondered if they'd sell some things that would help Bill by any chance, if Gravity-Falls High unknowingly held rare, magical flowers, why wouldn't a tourist attraction specifically made for the supernatural have one of Bill's ingredients?

Even with that chance, there was somehow a doubt in mind.

Pulling her phone from her back-pocket, she took a quick snap of the flyer. At the very least, it would do some good to at least ask Bill and see if he was willing to take a look around. However they would manage to pull that off without being spotted.

"Hey, dude!"

It was difficult not to recognize the only voice (Y/n) knew in this town.

"Oh hey, Wendy! What's going on?"

Inside the satchel, Bill stiffened at the sound of her voice. Naturally, he was already aware the both of them had met; while the red-head was no particular threat to him, all of hell be damned if he actually feared a fragile mortal, Bill would just much rather prefer if they kept their distance for now. Then again... Having (Y/n) form a bond with her would serve as a fruitful leverage towards the future.

He'd allow them to talk.

With a soft smile, (Y/n) turned to Wendy. Trying her best to ignore the stubborn, flashing, doodled bag of ice. The vision only lasted for a few moments before the lines eventually seeped away into the background. Thank goodness, making a new friend only to consistently see them replaced by a symbol would growing tiring very quickly.

The real mystery was what the symbols represented-- Bill refused to answer the question.

Better yet... _Who_ were the symbols?

She'd have to pick up that conversation again with Bill later on.

The freckled teen held up two large bags of beef jerky and a box of instant mac-and-cheese, "man, I'm just buying dinner."

Giggling softly, (Y/n) rattled the metal basket full with items from side to side "yeah, you and me both."

Before the conversation could turn horribly awkward, (Y/n) pointed towards the Mystery Shack poster behind her. Being born and raised in Gravity Falls, Wendy must have some more information to spare about the tourist attraction. In a small town like this, she imagined there was not many places to go for amusing. In short, she had good odds the red-head would be able to fill her in.

"Erm, you don't happen to know anything more about this place, do you?"

Wendy took a single glance and smiled warmly.

What began as a cruel punishment of "get a job or else go away for the summer" easily turned out to be one of the most adventurous, precious moments she'd cherish forever in her memory. It was almost hard for her to believe that her time with the Pines family had really sped by so quickly, of course they all swore to return the following summer, but that wouldn't be for a long while. Sure, there were genuinely mortifying moments that would scar Wendy for all of eternity, but somehow, despite their age, the twins made up for it.

"That place is just one big scam," her words were brutal, but there was a certain fondness inside her voice that gave away an obvious attachment towards the place "nothing inside that place is real, I honestly can't believe a bunch of people fell for it."

Just like that, the plan to visit the Shack flew out the window. (Y/n) would rather not risk another upset Bill by wasting both their time. Though, it did seem like an amusing place to visit with Nate for fun.

"Really? You sound like you love the place, though" (Y/n) pointed out "visit it a lot when you were a kid?"

Wendy shook her head, "nah, I used to work there, it really is pretty great" she paused briefly "they're open all seasons, hey, maybe we could hang out there sometime?"

Suppose it'd be alright for (Y/n) to take some time to herself and make friends with the only person she knows in Gravity Falls.

"Sure! It sounds like fun" 

Bill wiggled and shifted inside of the satchel, luckily it went unseen by Wendy. Against her mid-thigh, (Y/n) could feel the small outline of his hand pat against her flesh, he was persistent and firm with his prodding. Had it not looked weird, she would of told him to knock it off. That might of been his way of saying "hurry it up" she won't argue, (Y/n) was expected at home anyway.

"Looks like I've gotta go, but hey! You'll text me, right?" as (Y/n) was backing away, Wendy nodded.

"Definitely! Oh, and, there's some friends of mine you _have_ to meet, you won't get the full Pines experience otherwise!"

_Full Pines experience?_

_ Wonder what that meant._

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

Soulbound

_ Bill was right._

_ Bill was absolutely fucking right, and (Y/n) hated it._

When he suggested that she would be better off doing something else instead of wasting time, she didn't believe him until now.

Granted, there was nothing amusing about being still in a chair for hours and furiously scribbling notes in a page to begin with. Still, that did not excuse Gravity Falls High-School from becoming one of the dullest, boring, life-draining, places she has ever been to. Then again, those descriptions counted for generally every other high-school in the nation, however, this small, sleepy town took this to the extremes. Classrooms shared little to no personality, lesson materials were always poorly explained, the internet connections was shit, and attempting to speak to other local teenagers resulted in very short conversations or being ignored completely.

It became more apparent to (Y/n) that she had a lucky strike in meeting Wendy.

So spending ninety minutes inside of a cold, event-less class seemed to drag on forever.

Taking Bill's advice to skip school had never been more tempting.

"Now... You're going to want to..." the elderly woman held a marker up to the board, taking her time to write out the equation "get x onto the other side... and then you'll be able to graph" while her voice was soft and quivered in pitches, her movements were just as slow as her words. It took the poor woman a full minute to shuffle across her desk.

(Y/n) turned her attention elsewhere, this was all material she had already previously learned anyhow.

For a moment, she anticipated Bill would spring out of her satchel right about now, only to complain and make rash comments towards the mediocre school. Tease and threat something cynical to grab her attention and further tempt her escape. Although in hindsight, the situation would have made a turn for the worse if he did come along--- too many eyes surrounded her.

It took her a while to come into terms about Bill's existence, and she was the one sharing a living space with him.

She couldn't imagine how her classmates would respond to an illuminating tortilla chip. Though, considering their lack of attention and phone-addiction, they might not even notice Bill at all. To which, only made her need for comedic relief that much worse.

Still, in the end, (Y/n) allowed Bill to stay home as he refused to come along anyway. Wise choice, as she soon found out herself. Having survived through three lengthy classes this far, her fourth was about to end. Her eyes glanced towards the red, digital clock. One more minute until her freedom.

Or rather, one more minute until her task begins. At least, that's what it was beginning to feel like. Completing chores for Bill Cipher, collecting his ingredients, some (Y/n) was almost sure didn't even exist. Unicorn Hair sounded like a goose-chase. Bleeding into an empty milk carton, anticipating whatever lurked between the shadows of those god-forbidden woods... All because Bill asked for it. More like demanded really, as part of their deal.

Slowly, she began to wonder just how badly she wanted to be normal. How terribly she wished to live without those colorless worlds and cryptic visions. Piecing together clues; taking the risky decisions. Never knowing how the complete terror of a nightmare or wonderland of dreams. There was always the option in ignoring those altogether, but that wouldn't spare her from involuntarily visiting Bill and his Mindscape.

_ "Is this all worth Bill's tasks, his lack of remorse?"_ a silent voice of reason that sewed doubt inside her head.

_"Since when did this become okay?"_ Delicately, (Y/n)'s fingers trailed over her palm, a milky-white gauze protected her raw, sensitive slit that was quickly growing to be bruised from constant re-opening. How could she have complied so much with hardly any struggle? Granted, at least some of her own free-will remained intact, she told herself that bleeding into the plastic gallon was to avoid murder-- but why bleed for Bill at all? This was supposed to be a new beginning.

It made no sense how quickly her quiet, fresh start in Gravity Falls she anticipated was gone within a few days. Repeating what happened in her home-town should be absolutely avoided at all costs, she figured Nate and herself have been ridiculed enough for her own mistakes--- to think, someone would be as bitter to call (Y/n) insane over a misread vision. Then again, (Y/n) couldn't necessarily blame them, a destroyed family, relationship, and friendship would be enough for her to do something drastic as well. In the end, it was her own fault that her reputation was tossed into a wasteland of garbage. She'd be more cautious this time.

Regardless, being told _"you belong in a nuthouse,"_ never felt nice. 

Overhead, the bell gave out a horrid, out-of-tune ring. Wincing slightly from the shrill, (Y/n) absentmindedly gathered of all her materials previously scattered around her desk and slipped them inside of her satchel. At that moment, she contemplated whether or not to simply head home and tell Bill to collect whatever it was he needed on his own. Or better yet, find someone else to do his bidding, there was an entire town he could pick from.

But as she slung the satchel's strap over her shoulders, she found that her feet were already treading towards the gym. Soon after (Y/n) gave herself a self-tour, she discovered that the overall size of the school wasn't large at all. And considering Gravity Fall's population, this made sense. Though while this earned her an easy way to memorize the long, bare corridors, it also costed her space. Despite that, (Y/n) did her best to squeeze past other students and mutter soft "_excuse me's_" when she briefly collided into them, even a little, humble town such as Gravity Falls had crowded hallways. 

_ "Ridiculous. Stupid. Why am I doing this?" _she pursed her lips, thinking and anticipating the words she planned to say.

Whether it was her own end of the deal or the plain fact that (Y/n) saw potential friendship thawing from his sarcastic demeanor, he got lucky. Sighing, she couldn't help but pick apart the positives.

At the very least, stealing one single flower from an entire float made of them was bound to be easy.

_ Right?_

* * *

_Turns out, this would be harder than (Y/n) anticipated._

"I'm sorry... We'd love to have you on the team! But I don't think throwing in a new person in the middle of a project is a good idea..."

Especially when the entire plan was absolutely shattered within a single sentence.

Maintaining her lips pursed into a well-practiced smile, (Y/n) held an iron-grasp onto her satchel's strap until the pressured flesh turned a pale-yellow "Oh, really? I was hoping that I'd be able to join" she forced.

"Again, sorry! But, if you want I can sign you up for other projects!" holding up a bland clip-board, she continued "we're gonna be making super cute snowmen and snowflakes this winter--- out of paper, duh."

The committee president flashed (Y/n) another grin and held a pen onto stapled sheets of paper. With arched brows, she waited patiently for her response. Typically, having a second follow-up plan to replace the first was a responsible idea, however, (Y/n) didn't anticipate the possibility of being rejected from a school club. 

To be polite, (Y/n) stated her full name, only taking the time to spell out commonly missed bits when asked. Not like she would be coming back once she had what Bill needed. Speaking of, how could she manage to tell him her plan failed? An upset floating triangle was the last thing she needed to re-experience again. (Y/n) was able to feel his venomous words, bitterness, and glare miles away from his being. Either way, this small hitch in the road could not stop her from what needed to be done. For both of their sake.

Discouraged, she couldn't help but glance every-so-often from the girl in front of her to the floral float, then around the gym, mentally taking brief notes of all the doors, there was only two-- one leading outside and the other facing the school's interior. Considering the bleachers were enclosed into the walls, the additional three floats would have to suffice as coverage. 

It seemed like her only other option was to steal the thing.

What other option could there be?

Apart of her was nearly baffled at her willingness, though the shock of it all quickly perished within a large bundle of nerves. A sharp and dreadful anticipation of her own time counting down second by second replaced it. There was only a slim window of opportunity, this heist of hers would need to be executed soon. A small thought persisted in her mind, it echoed with a newfound bitter taste dwelling deep in her throat: _"what am I going to do if this plan fails?"_

"Oh! If you'd like, I can take you behind the scenes."

(Y/n) swallowed thickly, unable to control the rapid patter of her heart.

"Actually..." her voice quivered, "I think I should be heading home, there's someone waiting for me" not a lie, Nathan must have been waiting for at the bus stop. 

After a faked noise of disappointment, the two bid each other a brief goodbye. To which, (Y/n)'s feet carried her a little too quickly across the gym. Streaks and scratches scarred the wood, waxed floors. The dulled click steps of her boots became lost among the chatter, commands, and work. Pushing past the large, metal slabs of doors facing outwards, (Y/n) allowed the thing to slam itself behind her.

Lungs filled with the bitter, chilled autumn air as (Y/n) took in a large shaky sigh.

For a second, she allowed her back to lean backwards onto the sturdy school wall. Her head thudded against the bricks brashly until a dulled pain surfaced on the back of her head. Her eyes squeezed shut, allowing the rapid patter of her heart to carry on and the sudden dry, ache in her throat to persist. Plagued with the thought of failure, all the possible consequences weighed heavily on her shoulders. Although, for once, her mind reeled blank and she allowed the pressure to slip away.

Bill would have to understand. Maybe it was the way his cold stare seemed so unnerving, or how his quietness set a drastically dangerous tone in the air. Or, perhaps it was simply how different he behaved when genuinely upset. Either way, (Y/n) never wanted to see his orange-hue again.

(Y/n) placed her hand firmly over her chest, as if it would slow her own beating heart.

"Bill wouldn't hurt me... Sure, he gets snappy and moody. But he'd never hurt me, right?" the nerves bundled down as she failed to remember any moment where he physically, purposefully attacked. _"Right," _she whispered.

He'd understand.

Pushing herself from the wall, she cleared her throat. Hopefully, she figured, Nathan would still be waiting at the bus stop. Tapping away at some predownloaded games or draining mobile data, she imagined. Not what she would find ideal for a second-grader, but it was enough to keep him entertained. Nathan always had such a bountiful amount of adventure in his spirit, though he was never disobedient-- never to an extreme anyway, thank goodness for that. It was one thing to have your plans shatter into pieces and another to lose your little brother.

(Y/n) hurried on, making the long yet brisk walk around her school. Gravity Falls-Elementary was, quite literally, right next door to her High-school, which not only meant sharing a bus-stop but also not having to travel across town to pick up Nate. Suppose for older siblings such as (Y/n), entitled with prime care and responsibility of her younger sibling, it came as a mild blessing.

Typically, the said psychic would only have visions in her sleep.

However, seeing as Nathan was currently occupied fiddling with his guarded tablet and swinging his feet back and forth rhythmically, as she assumed he'd be doing, this only became amusing to her.

Then again, predictability shouldn't be counted as part of her abilities.

"Hey, are you ready to go?" she placed her hand firmly on his shoulder.

Perhaps she had been far too quiet as Nathan's body jerked under her touch. While giving him a slight scare was never her intention, it drew her lips back into a humored smile, although, she bit her tongue and kept from the slightest snicker from escaping her throat. Despite only being the ripe age of six, Nathan had an incredible sense of memory, though, words typically stuck to him better. Which is why (Y/n) figured he'd do so excellent in school, considering it was all mostly how well you could memorize a certain rule or formula before a test.

Sad, but that's how the American education system works.

Regardless, (Y/n) didn't need to squabble with Nathan and his keen sense of memory today.

He nodded, muttering a soft "yeah," before switching off his tablet and tucking his large, puffer coat under his arms. Far too large in her rightful opinion, it only made her little brother appear to be a microwaved, forest green mash-mellow. A sweater would have been much more appropriate for this weather, but it kept him warm, so (Y/n) gave it a solid pass. 

"The buses are gone now."

"Did the last one leave?"

"Mphm."

_"Of course we'd miss the bus, of course" _(Y/n) kissed her teeth, un-amused, and quite frankly, sick of her recent dump of rotten, sour luck. She forced out a heaved sigh and glanced down at the paved road, not that there was anything particularly special about it, as it was nothing more than a regular, cracked path. Walking home didn't seem like such an awful idea, it would give Nathan some more time in the fresh air. Besides, they both had to know their way around town eventually.

Suppose their situation could always become worse, freezing rain could be pouring from the sky right about now.

All things considered, (Y/n) still made an attempt to count her blessings, those being: a watchful eye on Nathan, an easy (yet boring) school day, good weather, and an understanding Bill... Hopefully. She still wasn't sure on how to break the news to him, he was dead-set on collecting his ingredients. The reason why continued to be unknown to her. So reasonably, she opted not to think about it until she got home. With a weary, unsure smile, she older sister stepped onto the sidewalk and followed the bus's general direction.

"We're going to have to walk home, okay?"

"Okay," Nathan trailed off softly, hugging his winter coat and allowing his super-hero themed backpack to sag lowly from his shoulders.

"Why don't we call Mom?" he pitched in softly.

"Hmm," (Y/n) hummed. Calling her Mother would have to mean explaining that she missed the bus, and possibly have her knowing that she left Nathan to wait out in the benches alone. Not alone, per-to-say, as (Y/n) was sure he was surrounded by other students her age, but alone as in she wasn't there to watch him. That in itself was already enough to have her grounded for months on end, at the moment she couldn't afford that happening. Not when Bill was so antsy.

In short, her Mother's scolding wasn't needed today either.

"She's working right now, and so is Dad" possibly not a blatant lie, the number of times where they missed one of Nathan's choir concerts was ridiculous, it was the kind where students were forced to perform a couple of classic holiday songs. Mostly off-key and terrible, though what would one expect from a class of elementary students? Yet, parents jumped at the chance to film them singing. And when children would be desperately searching for familiar faces, Nathan wouldn't be searching for Oscar nor Claire, but (Y/n) instead.

Not to mention the number of times his bigger sister wound up guiding him through his homework when he was told, "we can do it later, Mommy is working."

Nathan pursed his lips, "_but they're always busy._"

"I know..." was all that she could possibly think to say.

There was not much conversation that followed after. Only brief small-talk about how his first day of school went and the promise of playing _Super Smash Bros_ together. That seemed to lift up his mood considerably, seeing as there was a certain skip to his steps filling in the empty, yet somehow comfortable silence. But with silence, also came the thought of Bill. (Y/n) must have lost count of how many times she reformed a sentence in her mind until she was confident they were the right words. Mentally she rehearsed them as well.

The thought of over-reacting crossed her mind.

And again, she pushed those thoughts away. Figuring it'd be best to focus on navigating their way home.

Surprisingly, finding their way home was easier than she once anticipated. So much so, that she was sure Nathan would be able to go about on his own as well, not that (Y/n) would actually allow that... It would become the forest situation all over again. A merciless shiver flowed through her body. Eventually after walking past a couple of Ma and Pa shops, Greasy's Diner and an empty public pool, they found themselves walking down their long, gravel driveway.

All without bringing out her phone to look at Google Maps. (Y/n) gave herself a large pat on the back for a mission well-done.

Nathan rushed past her, gliding up the stairs and leaving the unlocked door hedged wide open for his sister. She assumed he was eager to be home after their semi-long walk, she couldn't blame him. While it wasn't unbearably cold, redness has settled at the tip of his nose and ears from the chill. This was even after forcing him to put on his puffed winter coat. (Y/n) couldn't lie, she felt her cheeks growing numb as well.

But she was in no real hurry.

Gently, her hands trailed across the porch's railings, skimming her fingers over the cracked, aged paintwork. Pale wood was revealed underneath the thin layers of a stained white. Her eyebrows furrowed, that needs a new coat of paint, she thought, knowing it would never be done.

(Y/n) closed the door shut behind her. Nathan no-where in sight, Father typing away ferociously at his laptop. Nothing worth sticking around for, not that she planned to anyway.

She hurried on upstairs.

"(Y/n), come set the table! Dinner's gonna be ready!"

She groaned, "_Okay, in a minute!_"

In hindsight, she should have been more annoyed than relieved at the command. After all, she hardly even had the chance to even sit down, but in case things got a little hairy with Bill, she had an excuse leave him to cool off. It was then that a particular knot inside of her stomach return, the one that made her heart race and her thoughts to run wild with scenarios. Most of the unrealistic and absurd, such as being burnt to a crisp by Bill's brilliant blue flames.

The night she first saw them was fresh in her memory, the color itself was absolutely gorgeous. But Hell would she ever tell him that, his ego would only increase by the thousand.

And despite how many times she reassured herself, the knot still persisted in her stomach. Her blood couldn't help but spike when she opened her bedroom door.

(Y/n) wasn't too sure what she was expecting to be greeted with. Bed flipped upside-down, torn book pages, the closet door on its hinges, clothes everywhere, all that wonderful destruction. In other words, she had learned her lesson in leaving a small, magical tortilla chip alone in her room with absolutely nothing that'll be amusing to him, other than her dreadful look when cleaning up his mess.

And surprisingly, with much relief, that wasn't what she saw.

Well, not fully anyway.

There was still a scatter of mess-- more specifically with papers, her mysterious letters that she had stashed inside of a shoe-box and slid under the bed. Bill must have found them whilst snooping around, typical, but (Y/n) had already grown used to that.

Still, only a scatter of papers around her wooden floor was a dramatically large improvement. For the strangest reason, this made her feel a little less nervous.

Bill didn't notice the (h/c) haired girl until she closed the door behind her with a soft, "well, I'm home."

"Kid, you didn't even get half-way close in solving these! What gives?"

Hanging her satchel around her bedpost, she shrugged "I-- uh, well, it's sort of hard when there are thousands of different keys."

"I don't blame you~ It takes a genius to solve my codes" still seated on the floor, he picked up a page scribbled with notes and a few deciphered words. "But it was cute of you to try, Princess."

(Y/n) froze, mid-way through picking up a discarded letter "wait... _You_ wrote these?"

"Who else could it be? Come'on, Princess, I need you to piece together puzzles here."

She blinked, nearly in disbelief. She licked her lips, her mouth had gone dry. Glancing down at the jumbled mess of letters in her hands, in a way it made sense, her colorless dreams were connected to the Mindscape. And, well, as far as she knew, Bill was the only person-- er, being, to be able to manipulate such things. Yet, it seemed so surreal to her.

She was expecting another Psychic, one more advanced than her to leave her the trail of bread-crumbs. Not Bill.

It made her wonder just how long Bill had been in her life.

"Oh, it's a long story~ for another time, Kid!" avoiding the topic, he switched to a more pressing matter.

For a brief moment, (Y/n) had forgotten that he read minds.

"Well, you were right. Today was so boring I actually considered your advice." she picked up the discarded papers, folding them neatly and then placing them back into a shoe-box.

"I'm always right. But you know that's not what I'm talking about, Princess."

She swallowed thickly, unable to avoid his one eye-- staring at her expectantly. There were moments in time where Bill was so incredibly difficult to read, and fortunately for her, these were one of these moments. But, considering the pitch of his tone, (Y/n) had grown used to his chalky voice, it seemed... Eager. It was now or never, not that she could avoid the conversation anyway.

"I didn't... Exactly get in the club, as planned. To be fair, to be fair! I didn't expect a school club to flat-out reject me. But I know the gym layout now so I was thinking I could always just go in and steal it, ya'know? I'm still getting the flower either way... It'll just, uh... Take me an extra day."

Bill grew quiet and (Y/n) pursed her lips tightly.

And while he did nothing but stare with his wide eye, her body couldn't help but feel the knot inside of her stomach grow tighter. This time, she failed to notice her face freezing in place and her breathing hitched to a stop. As much as she wanted to, not even a single word could have been formed.

Though, (Y/n) wished she could have said: "say something."

Dead silence wedged between them for what seemed to be the longest minute in all of existence.

Until Bill broke out into an uncontrolled fit of laughter.

"Baha! Oh man, you should've seen the look on your face! Priceless!" 

Rolling her eyes, (Y/n) forced out a sigh. At the very least thankful that he wasn't furious. While Bill squeezed his eye shut and continued his cackle, she picked up whatever remained of the letters and stacked them into the shoe-box, sliding the thing underneath the bed.

"Are you done?"

"Ohoho~" he wiped a humored tear away from his eye "you humans and your fear, it's hilarious!" he paused briefly to regain his composure, (Y/n) wasn't sure how, but his triangular form somehow curved. Suppose it was another mystery to Bill Cipher.

"Let me say this again, Princess. I don't _care_ how you get the flower, just as long as you do."

"_(Y/n)! Come down here and set up the table!_" her Mother's voice was harsher this time.

Relieved at this turn of events, (Y/n) picked herself from the floor. Of course, Bill wouldn't hurt her... Not physically, at least. But at this point, sharp jabs at her ego and confidence was only expected. It was such an absurd thought to begin with, that he'd be as furious as to completely obliterate her on the spot. And she had obsessed over it the entire way home, she was nearly disappointed in herself.

"Look, I've got to go. Just hang out around here, I'll be back."

His eye rolled, "you say that like I have anywhere else to go."

_ Yikes. _"It's for our own good, I'll bring you back a cup or something" (Y/n) closed the door softly behind her and made her way towards the kitchen.

Dinner is nothing special.

* * *

(Y/n) placed another spoonful of chili into her mouth. Not her favorite, but not terrible either. Still, she was practically finished with her first bowl, considering (Y/n) had already reached for three pieces of corn-bread. Taking another would make her feel like a glutton. Her only excuse is that she had skipped lunch today, putting whatever slop the school offered inside of her body was not tempting in even the slightest.

"So, how was school today?" her Father's attempt to break the silence. She ignored it.

"School was okay," Nathan responded with his mouth full

(Y/n) swirled the spoon inside of her bowl, mixing around the mess of shredded cheese and crackers.

"Oh yeah? Did you meet new friends?" Claire pitched in.

(Y/n)'s throat began to tighten, she picked up her glass of water and took a large swig. It continued to clench tighter, she brought her fingers up to her throat, as if her touch would magically make the sensation disappear.

"Kinda, I met this boy... He gave me a nugget."

Voices began to drown out into the background, (Y/n)'s vision began to dot with black stars, slowly at first, covering the corners before making their way into the center. She focused onto her bowl of chili. Was there something in her food? No, no. Everyone else seemed fine. She glanced up at them, their lips were moving and there were words coming out of their mouth-- but they were incomprehensible.

Perhaps she moved her head too quickly as her body swayed, her head practically felt weightless. No matter how much she tried to blink away the spots in her line of sight, they only grew back quicker, mingling into the darkness. If she didn't know any better, (Y/n) would say that was peering into another galaxy.

With a loosened grip, the spoon clattered on the table, catching her family's attention.

"Honey, are you okay?" she wasn't sure who spoke, only that their faces were completely covered with swirls, circles, triangles, and all sorts of shapes she couldn't even begin to describe.

"I... I think-" 

For a split second, she felt her forehead's dull smack on the table.

* * *

_ Detailed visions weren't rare, but they weren't common either. While they were usually always more helpful than a couple fleeting pictures, they came with their own personal costs. One of them being sensation._

_ Teenagers shouldn't be shoplifting._

_ But laws won't stop them, especially not when lives depend on it._

_ An older modeled car was parked out in the woods, three bodies huddled together for warmth. With water-bottles loitering the seats, it was clear the worn-down vehicle was considered a home of sorts._

_ Which was undeniably tragic, though (Y/n) was questioning how it connected with current events._

_ An unfamiliar, short-haired brunette was stuffing a blanket with large, sewn letters reading "Mystery Shack" into the depths of a worn, knock-off purse._

_ She gets caught. She's running._

_ Suppose one would never get used to seeing themselves in dreams, much-less visions. Having the power of foreseeing what could happen is unnerving, especially if the end result is death._

_ The brunette pushes past (Y/n)._

_ (Y/n) stumbles aside falling against the counter and splitting her head wide open._

_ Damn, was the pain unbearable._

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!


	10. Chapter 10

Soulbound

Falling under a fainting spell for the sake of a vision rarely happened.

As a matter of fact, such a phenomenon only happened once in her life. Twice now. Her previous experience had lead to Nathan becoming hospitalized with pneumonia only days before he began to cough out his lungs. The guilt of not warning him before or doing something to prevent his illness still lingered. Although in the end, her younger sibling fully recovered after a horrifying moment in which Nathan's symptoms worsened. This lead (Y/n) to believe that visions strong enough to knock her unconscious are more than likely important.

(Y/n) figured as such anyway, considering she _died. _

With a low, gentle groan, she picked herself off from the table and instinctively touched the tender area in her forehead. Only to wince when sheer, hot pain ran alongside her head. If there was any way to describe such a sensation, it was best comparable to her scalp being sliced open in order to reach her shell of a skull; that in itself being crushed into small, pathetic fragments of bones. It was so profoundly real, nearly bringing her to the brink of tears, but then the pain dulled away as quickly as it had come, as if it hadn't existed to begin with. 

As (Y/n) blinked away the non-existent shapes, the double versions of her family, and those black stars that have been annoyingly persistent, her vision slowly became clear as vivid memories of her death replayed inside of her head.

Her mouth had gone terribly dry, much like a tropical desert.

"Oh no, honey, sit back down!"

(Y/n) didn't listen. Smacking her chapped lips in a futile attempt to bring back moisture in her mouth. Trembling, her legs shook profoundly and nearly buckled underneath all the weight that has supported her for so long. "I..." words left her mouth, though they never fully processed in her head, "I think... I think I have to go" the faint, grumbled mess of a sentence was audible enough for her family to hear.

"Oscar, do something! Oh god-- Nate go to your room, I'll get water" Claire stood, sliding the wooden chair harshly against the old tile floors. She made her way towards the cupboard without another second thought.

_"You're scaring him. Don't scare him, not Nate" _was her first coherent thought, blinking with a tight squeeze to her (e/c) eyes, she forced them to re-focus and glance towards her small, sandy-haired brother. His mouth slightly agape, and gaze quickly became wide and glossy... Perhaps her younger brother didn't fully understand what was happening, though surely, he'd remember this someday. The way their Mother barked unnecessary orders as their Father's larger hand pressed down on her shoulder-- tempting her to take a seat. The way Claire ran about the kitchen, rambling _"medicine, she needs medicine too- oh where did we put the fucking medicine." _would be scared into his mind.

_Claire was only stirring panic and irritation._

(Y/n) gave Nathan a small, crooked smile. The best she could have made with her head pounding mercilessly against her skull. Without a single, croaky word from her throat, she mouthed "I'm okay." It failed to be enough to ease the tenseness in his shoulders or wipe the spike of fear from his innocent, sheltered eyes, though his iron-tight hold on his favorite plastic soldier grew faint. That was enough for her.

_"I was just super tired-- been watching movies all night"_ is what she'd explain to him later, mainly because she knew his curiosity would drive him to those bold question. It was easier to think of lies beforehand than on the spot, that much was common sense. Not that she _wanted_ to lie to Nathan, but despite their boundless line of closeness and entrusted secrets, Nathan didn't need to know about her death. He has yet to understand the concept of it.

_Her death... There must have been a mistake. She must have misread something._

_"Bill would know, wouldn't he?"_ she furrowed her brows together, _"he wrote those letters, he knows about the Mindscape, about--about so many other things! He's told me that so many times before. He has to know about this, somehow"_ her thoughts pieced together and connected dots she had never considered to be any relation at all.

"Dad," she forced out a groaned whisper, weakly fighting against the strength of his hand "I need to go."

And again, his palm pushed her shoulder onto the chair, "go? Go where?"

Claire placed a cup of tap-water onto the dining table, "Nathan! I thought I told you to go to your room" it took a lot for (Y/n) to not pick another battle with her Mother. But now wasn't the time. Seeing as her head felt weightless and the image of her (e/c) eyed brother disappeared off into the darkness that shunned just behind every corner of their home.

"The only place she's going to is to bed," having a pale green tablet in the palm of her hands written as "SONATA" she placed the medicine up to her daughter's lips-- (Y/n) recognized it, it was one of the sleeping pills Claire was prescribed to for her mild insomnia. Her Mother had always been too much of a workaholic, typing away, editing, photo-shopping images for the new cover of a magazine. And more than often, those late-nights staring at the screen would quickly turn into days without proper rest and microwaved meals.

"Sleeping pills? Are you serious?" Oscar whispered, as if (Y/n) wasn't wedged between them.

_The Mindscape._

(Y/n) reached out for the greenish blue pill and popped it into her mouth, swallowing the medication thickly along with her saliva-- or rather, lack thereof. Typically she would have crinkled her nose in disgust and turned a cheek when it came to tap-water... However, considering she could practically _feel _the pill struggling to travel down her throat, she took the glass and swallowed the cooling drink desperately.

"Of course I'm serious, I know sleep deprivation when I see it. She needs sleep." Claire reasoned, granted, perhaps her prescription wasn't the most popular choice most parental figures would decide on. Howbeit, Claire knew her daughter like the back of her own hand, and if she was sent off to her room, then her nocturnal cycle would only trudge forwards in a continuous, addictive loop.

"But that doesn't mean drugging her, Claire."

(Y/n) didn't want to be in the middle of this petty argument. She wasn't a child anymore. This time resulting victorious against her Father, (Y/n) stood and swayed her way out of the dining room, or at the very least, made a valued attempt. Stumbling, the room around her seemed to spin and fade in and out of focus, apart of her believed it was because of the drug. But while the Sonata had rather quick effects (to which her Mother favored, especially for a quick sleep), the burn of her birth-mark told her otherwise.

Perhaps... Her body recognized the need to be in the Dreamscape as well.

The thought itself seemed absurd-- yet, comically believable.

She held on tightly onto the wall, seemingly the only sturdy thing alive as she was pushed around in a vicious, spinning, whirlwind.

"We'll talk about this later. Come on, Sweetheart, let's get you to bed."

A bed sounded very nice.

However, the foreboding thought of another dreadful vision set a fiery alarm to every nerve in her body. She tensed when she felt her Father whisk her away from the cold, tiled floors. It felt as if she was floating in mid-air no less! Small, brief memories of her childhood were suddenly recalled, being carried by her parents whether that be shoulder-rides though parks as she reached for branches or her favorite, "princess style" whenever her feet ached ever so terribly.

Without much thought, her head pressed against his chest. _"I'm not a kid anymore,"_ she told herself, but it'd be a terrible lie saying such a nostalgia didn't feel nice. Much like having weights attached to her eyes, her lids slowly began to droop and her vision began to fade into comforting darkness.

"Put her on the couch, I'll watch over her."

"Claire, she isn't ten."

Her eyes closed. (Y/n) was unsure if it was the drug itself or her burning mark that lulled her into the depths of unconsciousness, but the sweet, painless heat that spread throughout her skin and cooled within her body wrapped snugly around her. Much like a comforting blanket from her youth. It soothed her nerves and somehow... Her mind was assured that she'd head straight towards the bland, colorless lands of the Mindscape.

For once, all the tension eased from her shoulders and important notes of responsibilities seemed nonexistent.

(Y/n) had only felt this way once before, oh yes she remembered the night so profoundly. When she lay curled up in a tight, whimpering ball against the explosion of Bill's brilliant blue flames, the night she had been consumed by them entirely.

It didn't take long from there before her world spun into black.

* * *

** A**s quickly as she had fallen asleep, (Y/n) reappeared in the Mindscape.

The same, swaying fields that she had hiked along with the glowing triangle as he practically chewed off her ear still remained, waltzing gently in the wind. Tall blades of grass nearly consumed her entire being and the snapping flowers that Bill was so particularly fond of held their jaws wide, anticipating any creature foolish enough to set off their sensors. The familiar crooked logs stood still on their sides and a nearby, thick cluster of never-ending woods tempted an adventure out of her... It was all a relieving sight.

But she wasn't here to appreciate the view.

"Bil-"

"Admit it, Princess" his familiar, enthusiastic voice increased to a Hellish volume. Right next to her ear. "You're starting to like it here!" he mused, though he has yet to inform her that these nightly trips were to her own mind, it was only natural to pathetic human nature that she would eventually find comfort in this.

(Y/n) winced, feeling the thin prodding of his inky-black legs near the tenderness of her shoulder.

There was no time for chit-chat, "Bill-"

"You had a vision! It's about time, here I was thinking you were losing your touch!" he chuckled.

She rolled her eyes, if only he'd stop interrupting, "and If I was?"

"Then I'd have to kill ya," he responded, flatly. Burring his elbows into her nest of hair.

With his lack of expression, it was ridiculously difficult to pinpoint exactly if he was serious or not. While (Y/n) couldn't rotate her head without knocking off the "being of pure energy" (as he once described himself), she could still feel the intensity of his single, cat-like eye boring into her skin. But, considering his honey-hued color, (Y/n) took his words lightly. Another one of his morbid "jokes" that he threw about constantly, mainly to see her twisted reactions. Sadly, the more she grew accustomed to his grotesque humor, the darker they seemed to get, and something told her that Bill's mind goes deeper than beyond comprehension...

"Uh-huh," she crossed her arms, "and how did you even know I had a vision?"

Not meeting with her in the Mindscape was the only dead give away, seeing as how Bill purposefully gave her the inability to dream for that sole reason. Call it insurance, if he didn't have his watchful eye on (Y/n), then her only other option was to be looking into the future. That way nothing meaningless as silly dreams would be confused for a prophecy. At the moment, those came for her randomly... That had to change.  
  
"Not the point, Princess" eagerly, he twirled his cane "the real question is what you saw!"  
  
With a shaky sigh, her lips trembled out the words "I think I just saw my own death. And... I think it's happening soon."  
  
"That's impossible. Your death day is July 25th."  
  
"Thank you, Bill. That's _very_ reassuring."  
  
"Don't you want to know the year?"

Shaking her head, (Y/n) took a seat on the melancholy grass. Reasonably, she didn't want any more details of her death weighing on her mind the next day, one fact was too much. And while every part of her being wanted to believe Bill, her instincts told her otherwise. She had come here hoping that he'd know more about this, but now that she had a chance to think things through with a clear mind, the dots she had so previously connected in her state of hysteria was absolutely, positively, senseless.

Bill hopped onto her knee, cursing himself for his inability to fly. How he longed to be weightless again.

"You know," he dragged on, "coming all the way out here was a waste of precious time~ especially when you could have gotten all your questions answered" he paused to snap his fingers, "like that." Albeit, her vision was not one he was particularly hoping for, or rather, anticipating. Still, it was still a step in the right direction. 

What good was a Clairvoyance when she refused to hone her powers? That he had so generously given her, granted for a price, regardless she should consider herself lucky.

Despite lacking the interest to anything related to her powers at all, her attention has easily been caught "what do you mean?" she pressed.

If Bill could grin-- he would have, "you Humans throw the term "special" around too much. Most of the time, you say it to young flesh-bags so they don't feel bad about their mediocre selves."

_Harsh._

"But not you! Oh hoho~ you're one of a kind!" Out of all of his centuries spent on Earth, Bill easily discovered that all humans had some sort of ego, and stroking it in just the perfect way was bound to get results. It worked with Stanford, why should it fail with (Y/n)?

"Not really," she pulled her knees closer to her chest, feeling sudden heat glow on her cheeks "I'm sure there are other psychics out there."

"Oh, there is" he maintained eye-contact, doing his best to crane his gaze upwards. There was the colored girl who manipulated electricity in Montana, the red-head who controlled the emotions of others in Florida, and his least favorite-- the squeaky, telekinetic teenage boy who quickly grew a god-complex after discovering his abilities in New York. Bill couldn't have any of that. Though still, they were all children that bore his mark since birth. Since their contract. (Y/n)'s mark, however, was the only mark active, considering she had been the one to release him from his stone prison. 

Of course, there were other psychics naturally born into this pathetically, boring, sad little world of theirs. But those weren't connected to him whatsoever, he couldn't care less as long as they didn't stand in his way.

"But see," he continued "they can't _see _like you can! Oh, Princess. If only you knew what you could do" his tone was quickly growing ecstatic, and (Y/n) wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing or not "you know if you practiced a little more, you could see visions at will, get more than what you're given, even change minds-- but let's face it, you'd probably die of old age before you can do _that_, hah!"

In cases such as these, getting more information to prevent her own death would be more than useful...

No. Her abilities have gotten in the way of normalcy as it already did, there was no use in pouring gasoline to the fire. In any case, she didn't see why Bill was so keen on building her abilities to begin with, though if she asked, she was sure that he'd give her an indirect answer, or most likely, none at all.

"Sorry... But, I don't really want anything to do with my powers."

She fully realized that there were a few people in the world that would do _anything_ to be in her exact position. Anyone looking for an adventure with an entity that does not exactly belong to this world, or simply wanting to experience something out of their own realm of normalcy. By any means, they could have it. So far this life has only lead her to near-death experiences and a mouthful of harmful words, rejection, and betrayal. That much she could handle, but the effects it would have on Nathan was not something she was so willing to be careless with.

Bill's eye dropped half-lidded in response, not that he expected a quick and effortless agreement. No, this prophet of his seemed to have much more of an iron-will than Stanford... For the sake of comparison, Ford _was_ blinded by the plain and simple curiosity of creatures of abnormality while (Y/n) herself was one. (Y/n)'s weakness seemed to rely solely on her inner-circle. That being Nathan. Oh, if he told her to jump, she'd only ask how high...

If Bill could wedge himself in that inner-circle of hers...

Sure, she followed his requests. But she did as such with hesitation and questions, not to mention the unforgettable promise of a favor he'd return to her. Bill needed undeniable loyalty, and he was willing to play the right cords in her heart-strings to achieve that. If he was restored to his full strength, all he'd have to do was snap his fingers and gain her devotion through fear. But considering he was low on magic supply, Bill had to make do with what he was already a master of.

He befriended many humans before, including Stanford. But something as simple as friendship wouldn't get him what he needs.

"Take it from me, Kid. I wouldn't do that" he advised "if you can prevent your own death, you can stop Nathan's too. Imagine it! He'd never get sick, never bleed, or have his poor heart broken because big-sister said so!"

_That_ seemed to catch her attention. As he knew it would.

"Nathan... " Bill wasn't wrong, if she could choose what her visions show her, Nathan would never be in harms way. She'd know what he's about to do anything stupid or dangerous. She'd be able to do _something. _

The world was slowly going shading into a blinding white, the trees, grass, dirt, clouds, and plants that made the Mindscape feel lively was quickly and fluently falling apart. Much like a doll to old sewing.

"Looks like you're waking up, Princess~"

The thought itself nearly made Bill shiver-- dare he say it, but he needed to play family with (Y/n).

"We... We have to talk about this later!" 

* * *

(Y/n) gasped softly and opened her eyes...

The concept of time was absolutely ridiculous and unorganized when it came to her world and the Mindscape, (Y/n) was beginning to believe that there was no such thing as time at all.

It took her more than a couple of seconds to recognize where she was, but considering she was facing the soft glare of a plasma television streaming old episodes from an even older adult cartoon and hearing the relentless keyboard clacking of her Mother's keyboard next to her, it was safe to say she was in the living-room.

That, and she slowly stood up from the couch.

The new furniture was unnaturally uncomfortable and firm, (Y/n) was quickly missing the old ones she had previously broken into. She would have much rather opted for the welcoming warmth of her bed, but giving it another second thought, the idea was horrifying... Bill was still in her room, he wasn't exactly keen on her rules.

She rubbed her eyes, "what time is it?"

"It's six forty, in the morning" Claire's response was almost automatic.

(Y/n) groaned, if she hurried, she'd be able to take a quick five minutes to wash her hair for school. Peeling off the thin source of warmth from her body, she stood and cracked her back.

"Okay, well I'm going to show-"

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" for a brief second, Claire glanced up at her daughter, her glasses reflecting against the illuminating screen of her device.

And for a moment, the world stopped. (Y/n) swallowed thickly, _did they know about him?_

"I... I don't know what you mean."

"Last night, during dinner" she clarified, her eyes not leaving the teenager's tired and worn body. (Y/n) needed to come up with something reasonable, and quickly. Taking your sweet, sweet, time to answer a question would only arouse suspicion in a lie.

"I was just feeling tired," the words left her lips smoothly and gently "I haven't been eating as much is all."

Sighing, Claire resumed her work. There was a deadline she needed to complete and if she understood her daughter's false scenario, she most certainly wasn't showing it.

"Well, you scared us..." she trailed off, "if you want, we can go have your iron levels checked."

"I feel fine. I'll just start taking vitamins, do we have any?"

"In the kitchen. Where they're always at" her voice become automatic again, much like an answering machine. Not that it was anywhere close to motherly or compassionate to begin with, at least, when Claire was working.

Internally, (Y/n) allowed herself to sigh out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. (Y/n) strode her way into the kitchen, if she were to make this lie believable she might as well play along, besides, not that vitamins were particularly bad things. Childish as it might sound, (Y/n) was especially fond of the sugared gummies.

And assuming that Claire meant the medicine cabinet, that was the very first place she checked. (Y/n) pushed past the disorganized mess of herbal teas, bandages, disinfectants, ointments, and other bottles of medication dedicated to pain relief. Nothing that she needed right this moment. Going on her toes, she reached for and set aside more bottles and health-care items. Eventually, after rummaging through the shelves, (Y/n) found what she was looking for... Only that right next to it was her Mother's prescription. 

The blue, measly little capsule hit (Y/n) harder than what she anticipated. Glancing inside the transparent bottle, there was countless of other pills with the same marking, her Mother must have recently gotten a re-fill.

Much like a speeding ball, the answer to only some of her problems struck her.

(Y/n) pursed her lips together into a fine line, there was a solid reason why some of the more "dangerous" items weren't kept locked up or hidden away, and that was because of (Y/n)'s strong bond of trust with her parents. Going through with what she had in mind was about to completely destroy whatever was left of that. Swallowing sleeping pills made in the middle of school was bound to get her caught, if she wasn't careful, that was.

And for seemed to be hours, she stood there, racking her mind for any other possible ideas. Though, none surfaced. None that would guarantee her a quick, and easy trip to the Mindscape. And it was now more than ever that she _needed_ to talk to Bill.

About her vision, about the symbols, about Nate, about the ingredients-- oh god the flower.

(Y/n) cursed, how could she have forgotten? Though, to be fair, her mind is currently being occupied by the vision of her own death.

"(Y/n)! Did you find them?!"

"Uhh, yeah!"

_ Screw it. _She thought. Whatever helped solve at least some of her problems, she wouldn't miss the opportunity. Besides, with the bottle filled with capsules, Claire would fail to notice one... Perhaps two that have gone missing. Unscrewing the secure lid quietly, (Y/n) poured out only what she needed into the palm of her hand and placed the sedative in her back pocket.

_ All of this was getting out of hand._

* * *

"Oʜ ʜᴏʜᴏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴄᴜᴛᴇ. Dɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ? Iᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏᴡ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴏɴ! Iᴛ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɴᴏᴡ, Pʀɪɴᴄᴇss!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle reminder that this story is also posted under my Quotev user as @.Pluviona :) I will make an announcement regarding the reposting of this story. Should you find this work on any other website or under a user that isn't @.Pluviona (unless stated otherwise) please notify me immediately.

Soulbound

It wasn't until (Y/n) stepped foot into the steaming shower did she finally release her silent anguish.

Those were not her intentions to begin with-- only planning to scrub her body free from the filth and grime of yesterday. To which, proved to be more than eventful and well-worthy of the private comfort and normalcy of a good, piping hot shower. And despite her seemingly long rest, the growing, smokey bags underneath her (e/c) hues sorely pulsed, the temptation to shut her eyes for another good hour only grew as her exposed self became encumbered with warm steam. Her limbs wobbled, hardly having the strength to keep herself upright, much less scrub her skin thoroughly.

Yet, it had to be done. With a wrinkled nose, (Y/n) couldn't help but watch as the clouded water swirled down the drain with every passing second she spent rinsing her thinning locks of (h/c) hair from the floral-scented shampoo. Each time she pulled away, small strings of hair were painlessly plucked from her scalp and became entangled between her fingers-- normal, albeit, she noticed the loose strands were growing progressively dense.

(Y/n) ignored this, instead allowing her tense shoulders and heavy mind to ease at the rapid touch of water. Tonight, she already decided, that a candle-lit, fizzy bath was in need to soak away some of her concerns. And hopefully, manage to conserve some of her hair.

However, as she began working the soap logged bath-globes across her lathered skin, deep into the hard-to-reach areas, and down the prickly surface of her legs, she couldn't help but suffer the coldest chill coursing through her body as she trailed over the fleshy pink lesions grasping at her ankles.

  
Grimacing, she had pushed away the painful image first. Telling herself to finish up and get dressed for the school day. But as if by pure, cosmic karma, the more she avoided replaying the horrifying events burned into her memory, the more it struggled to resurface in her mind.

Her fingers trailed over the scars again-- this time she had to force down the yellow bile threatening to spill from her empty stomach. It was then that every insignificant detail from that god-forsaken night came crashing onto her empty thoughts, filling them with the plague that was her own substitute of a nightmare. It is what she imagined they would feel to be. Cold and unforgiving.

Mysteriously, any moisture remaining in her mouth was soaked away, her breath hitched as it was overcome with the sudden inability to breathe. There was a certain tightness in her chest, much like a worn, rusted spring that refused to bounce under pressure, cold and stiff. And as the tub beneath her swirled, swayed, and warped to that of the forest floor, her back hit against the shower wall for support.  
She held herself-- doing what little she could to shield her exposed body from the bitter, seemingly endless August night. 

_"This isn't real,"_ it's what she told herself, squeezing her eyes shut, refusing to open them even as the scuttle of leaves surrounded her. 

"I'm in the bathroom, taking a shower" she whispered it out into the world this time, waiting, anticipating, hoping for the soles of her feet to once again come into contact with the white, glossy surface that was her tub. Yet, as she wiggled her toes, there was only a cool, damp substance that flooded between them. She shuffled her feet, and surely, there was a littered mess of fallen twigs and leaves that brushed away at the soft, warm tissue of her soles.

Her own beating heart pounded mercilessly against her ears, it's thundering drums losing the once serene tone it danced along with.

"This isn't possible," she swallowed a mouthful of saliva, thin and could have been easily mistaken as water if it weren't for the strong taste of salt that lingered.

"It can't be real" she held herself tighter as the winds blew against her, howling and carrying the cold front with them. It screeched-- painfully, almost as if it were an alarm that forced even the mightiest tree to quake and tremble under it's desperate cry, and they did, branches swayed and clashed onto neighboring structures and unsteady leaves were torn away from their previous roots, now rushing past (Y/n) with such velocity it nearly appeared to have been raining.

Despite such conditions. Her skin felt on fire-- boiling with an aftermath of uncomfortable, sticky, heatless sweat.

_"I don't want to be here. This isn't real"_ she begged, to no one but herself. Though, she wasn't alone. Yes, that much she was aware of, speaking from pure experience.

There was anther scuttle of leaves behind her, this time out-of-sync with the chaotic winds it was only instinctive to turn around and open her eyes.

_ No.  
Please._

A hot, overwhelming surge crawled up from her stomach and burned it's path mid-way up her throat. (Y/n) clasped her hand over her mouth, the sight of the hellish beast rendered her mind useless, her heart no longer pounded, soil ceased to exist, no longer damp and uncomfortable underneath her feet, her ears failed to pick up on the screeching winds-- it's warning for her, to run as far away from there as her legs could have possibly carried her. She should have listened. But now, her knees only trembled, unable to keep her own weight for much longer.

It stood there, hunched and staring at her with a predatory gaze-- waiting for her to turn away, even for the briefest moment. Ready to urge forward and finish what never ended.

It was impossible to restrain herself now. Accompanied with a long series of a coughing fit, elastic saliva, and welled eyes, empty bile forced itself out of her mouth and puddled onto the forest floor. An unmistakable coil continued to linger in her stomach, tight and searing against her innards. Though, nothing more other than only last night's chilly and acid left her. Groaning softly, she wiped what remained from her lips.

Quivering with a rattled, hitched breath. Her blurred vision was blinked away, tears making their way down the gentle curves of her face, nothing and then all at once, much like a dam with fissures and chips embedded within it's once-sturdy walls.

"Run. _Run._ I need to _run_," her mind recognized the command, and yet, her feet remained where they were. Stiff and frozen.

The beast crawled closer. Tauntingly with it's slow pace. With light and skillful movements, the beast trudged it's way across the forest floor, their silence only made their existence that much more hazardous. Joints popped as it moved, inching closer dragging those overgrown claws against the sea of leaves. (Y/n)'s knees gave out. Paying no mind at all to the sudden contact of Earth against her bare ass. 

  
How could she? What the Hellish Beast was right in front of her.

Breathing ruggedly through exposed, crooked teeth. The beast slid over it's tattered tongue over its hallow cheekbones and over the surface of its decaying, sickly clouded gray flesh before sliding back into the dark cavern of it's soiled mouth. A thick, dark oozing substance began to drop from it's bony chin and (Y/n) could only assume it had the audacity to salivate.

As if seeing her freeze in terror wasn't satisfactory enough.

A thick, fine edged talon rested tentatively on her ankle. Tracing down the old, scared tissue it left behind on her body only weeks ago. Admiring it's craft as if the damage it left behind was nothing more than a mere trophy.

(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut, "please" she begged, not that she expected the lanky creature to care. A strangled sob left her "don't-- no, no, not again, please!"

And before she could make another desperate plea to spare her life, that new, freshly healed wound was torn open again. Wider this time, with a wiggling, squirming, talon deep withing the coarse interior of flesh and bone.

(Y/n) gasped, her eyes snapping open and her mouth low, and hanging.

Water (albeit much cooler now) continued to pour from the shower head, dripping onto her clingy strands of hair and forming droplets against her skin. It took a long, dragged minute for her mind to fully comprehend where she was-- there, in the safety and comfort of her own home, supposedly stealing a quick shower to rinse off her grungy-self and preparing for the school day. Not stranded in the dead center of nature's most alluring spell of a misleading adventure, filled with greens, plants, delightful wildlife and creatures belonging to the paranormal, bewitching travels deeper into the deathly maze with nothing but magic and awe.

Her body sunk far against the shower wall, her back hunched, practically caving into herself with her knees pinned up against her chest. Despite the uncomfortable platform, she took comfort in her particular position. Crossing her arms and placing them tenderly on her hunched knees, she buried her face deep into the crook of her own trembling body. Her mind couldn’t help but focus on the steady patter of water, wiggling her toes to find the small, growing puddle of her own wash filling the empty spaces between them and reassured herself that they haven’t played with the forest soil in many, many weeks.

She took deep breathes to steady the powerful beat of her own heart “it wasn’t real,” she murmured, convincing no one but herself “it wasn’t real,” she uttered those three words over, and over, and over again until her mind ceased in replaying the events that had quickly become her own personal nightmare.

A broken sob escaped from her, muffled by the shower “I... It wasn’t--- It wasn’t real.”

Her shoulders eased, still her face remained buried, tucked safely away in her own arms. After all, there was no one else to hold her-- to soothe her, to tell her it was all going to be alright, that she was not embarking this twisted mission, cursed adventure all on her own. Technically speaking, that was the truth, but what she sought was the familiar presence of genuine closeness and humanity. Something Bill had no capacity of, from what she learned anyway.

No one, no one other than Bill know the exact horrors of those woods. And she had a deep, nagging feeling that the ominous triangle was not one for soft affections and comfort. If anything, his “face” (which was hardly a face at all, though somehow still expressed many emotions) would contort into a humored grin. And then he’d let out that loud, god-forsaken, terrible, ear-splitting laugh, telling her, “oh boy, you humans only grow more fragile! I thought you had fun that night, Princess. I sure did.”

And so it was also then, in the cold shower, that she bitterly accepted her isolation with the seemingly moral-less being. It was her responsibility, she thought, the vision she was ironically trying to distance herself from lead her to this very situation. This “gift” Bill was so highly fond of was only a bloody curse wrapped neatly in a sparkling, glamours bow with her name written in ink. And through him, she figured, she’d eventually strip herself from this sixth sense and fruitfully live out the rest of her life, as a normal teenager should, with random, senseless dreams filled with color. And more pressing matters, such as her own death, would remain a mystery.

It was what she hoped for, anyway.

Another choked sob escaped her. And not even moments later, another, and another, until her warm, salted tears joined the delightful pitter-patter of the shower.

It didn’t take her much longer to leave the shower once it had gotten unbearably cold, making quick work to turn off the handle and dry herself off. Glancing in the mirror, (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice the deep, bruising circles underneath the lids of her eyes. Gingerly, she brought the pads of her fingers up to the swelling area and frowned, they only seemed to grow. It made sense, since Bill’s arrival, every night had been a struggle to collect a quality amount of sleep.

Sighing, she twisted the towel tightly around her hair and left it there whilst she slipped on fresh clothing for the day. Comfortable and varying in the rather darker shades of the color spectrum. She had an agenda today, a large one at that, to whisk away the flower and cross off an item in the list. And it wouldn’t do any good to draw unwanted attention to herself with bright and stylish colors. Yes, today was the day, she was sure of it.

Finishing up her morning routine with surprising haste, (Y/n) entered her room, fully clothed with her large towel being unraveled from her now damp hair. Taking a quick glance around the room, she noticed nothing was out of place or broken while she was away, thankfully, it seemed that Bill had satisfied his simple curiosity. Although, if there was anything she was absolutely wary of, was his whimsical decisions spawned out of pure boredom.

Snatching the comb from her desk, (Y/n) ran the rough bristles through her hair. Wincing only occasionally with it got caught in a stubborn knot. 

“You. Me.” Her voice was stern this time, with only the determination to push through this nightmare and bury it deep, deep in her mind where it can never be resurfaced. What aspired in the shower... Should never happen again.

She quickly shook the thought from her mind, not wanting her particularly, privacy invasive friend to take another glimpse into her thoughts. He continues to insist they were purely based on instinct, though by now (Y/n) knew that was a load of crap.

“At noon-” she continued, only to be interrupted. 

“Time doesn’t exist, Princess. Come on, haven’t you been listening? It’s only a concept you Flesh Bags made up to organize your mundane, short lives” Bill insisted, leisurely leaning back on her heaps of throw pillows. His single eye that had been previously shut opened by only a half-lidded margin, he cast her a rather slothful gaze-- though there was a twinkle of amusement in his cat-like pupil, she had only seen it when he spat out his overly morbid, cruel sense of humor and watched her reactions like a giddy child. (Seriously, Bill takes “Dark Humor” to another level).

Regardless, not the initial attention she was hoping to gain, but (Y/n) took what she could get.

She took a deep breath, “well then let’s pretend that it does. At noon, I have lunch, we’re going to talk then. No more cryptic stuff! If this” she gestured between her and the glowing geometric shape “is going to work, we have to be on the same page.”

His eye was wide open now; despite his gaze not holding any malice whatsoever, there was still an unnerving chill coursing through (Y/n)’s spine as his stare was now locked onto her. Suppose that was always an effect Bill would have. 

“_If_ I’m in a good mood,” his dark fingers tapped rhythmically against his own arm “I might answer a few things, but no promises.”

Bill, however, was more intrigued with her sudden increase of boldness. Something that could easily either poke and prod him in the worst ways possible or entertain him. It was all in the matter of the moment. Fortunately for his clairvoyance, his complexion glowed his usual bright gold. Just last night, she didn’t have the courage to look him in the eye and now here she was, staring him down. Yet he couldn’t help but blame his lack of power for this, not to mention his facade.

“Mind telling me where all this spunk came from, Princess?” he teased, although his words wavered and became masked in playfulness, he had every intention of finding the root to her sudden confidence. One that seemingly appeared out of thin air.

(Y/n) didn’t answer him at first, pressing her lips together into a fine line and contemplating her response. Being forced to tolerate these situations, her visions, her non-existent dreams left her... Exhausted. Completely drained from whatever energy she had left in the start of her day, both physically and mentally from carrying such heavy weight of responsibility on her shoulders. More than once finding herself looking forwards to seeing the bland Mindscape in the hopes to spend time with only herself to keep company and have peace whilst doing so.

Peace was something she never really had a chance to have. Bill and whatever else lurked in those woods were evidence of that. It took (Y/n) the Misreading Incident to finally realize her so called “gift” gave her more trouble than what they were worth keeping.

(Y/n) sighed, coming to the quick realization that Bill was still waiting a response. she was sure whatever words crossed her mind at this very moment, Bill was more than aware of them. It made more sense to her then to tell the truth-- or at least, part of it.  
  
“Believe it or not, everyone has had enough at some point, Bill” she groaned out lowly, setting the comb back down onto her desk and reaching for her satchel, adjusting it snugly around her shoulder. 

The only response she got was the simple roll of his eye. Naturally.

Perhaps it’s far too painful for Bill to show genuine concern.

* * *

The rest of the morning that followed was mediocre at best. Nathan and (Y/n) scarfed down their frozen waffles as quickly as possible and left briefly without so much as a “goodbye” from their working parents who by then have already retreated into their office. No different from any other morning, really. Other than Nathan insisting (Y/n) to make breakfast burritos, though those took time-- something they didn’t have at the moment.  
  
Regardless, they traveled their way down their long, gravel driveway and managed to memorize the path to school. Talking idle chat, about his current progress in _“Minecraft” _to which, (Y/n) only nodded along with small noises of conformation, not entirely listening, and occasionally asking a few “and how do you do that?” to further feed the topic. Not that she was particularly interested. Though, it left a nice feeling knowing she had a nice conversation with Nathan. They haven’t been interacting as much ever since Bill, she was sure he noticed that as well.

In any case, walking to school and back was far more preferable in (Y/n)’s opinion, there was no cramped seats, awkwardly sitting next to a stranger, no obnoxious laughing or screaming that the mustard yellow school bus had to offer. Instead, a nice and pleasant chat and the small town beginning to buzz into life in the early mornings was more than sufficient. Shop keepers flipped over their “open” signs, parents rushed to check off a few early errands, and more students much like herself, walked along the pavement path. And unsurprisingly enough, some were even walking away from the school.

Eventually, Nathan and (Y/n) had to part ways with the traditional ruffle of his sandy-brown hair and a whisper of good luck accompanied with a small, warm smile. Nathan, despite fixing his hair and giving a soft grunt-- didn’t mind the simple affection and trudged off towards the doors as other children around his age began to pour in. (Y/n) didn’t leave until she lost sight of her little brother into the growing sea. Then, she turned around and made her way into Gravity Falls Senior High.

In hindsight, she should have considered that to be a more peaceful morning (aside from the shower). While she physically attended first period, which was Language Arts. She spent the time writing down details of her theft plan in her Dream Journal. It had been a while since it’s pages were filled, and she felt more than satisfied growing back into new, previous habits. Having well-enough awareness to pull her journal away from peering eyes or occasionally glance towards the decorated white-board and at the very least made it seem like it had her full attention. This was only to prevent the teachers suspicion. Albeit, (Y/n) knew that she would eventually regret not listening into the first assignment of her school year, she found that her new, detailed plan was far more productive. Considering her heist would take place today. Right before she locked herself into the bathroom stalls to swallow the Sonata.

Speaking of which--- she slipped her hand inside her satchel, which dangled from the side of her chair. She looked around the room doing so, the instructor, tall and balding, continued to drone on about the assignment expectations. Most of the students spaced off into air, their hands supporting their cheeks with dreary eyes. Others picked away at their nails and some continued to scribble on the already vandalized, wooden desk. When one of the students looked (Y/n)’s way and caught her eye, feeling an intense heat surge powerfully through the curves of her face, she quickly redirected her attention else were. The partially bare, cream colored walls turned out to be genuinely interesting with the tacky, cheesy posters and a info graphics of school rules.“Great” she thought distastefully, her hand shuffled around the base of her bag, her brows knitting together in slight concern, thinking she could have somehow left it behind. Along the clutter of pencils, notebooks, and folders, the pads of her fingers traced over two oval pills. Thankfully, not crushed.

She sighed silently in relief and waited for first period to finish. In her second class, Biology, (Y/n) had once again opened her Dream Journal to the Bill Ciphers page, the only one with a large, uneven wheel full of even sloppier symbols. Her only defense was she jot this down as quickly as humanely possible inside a moving car. She had nearly forgotten that page existed, and yet, she took the time to carefully reconstruct the drawing as smoothly as it could become. Naturally, there was no such thing as the perfect circle, especially done by hand, but studying the drawing now, (Y/n) could only feel a sense of pride in her growing skills. Then it was onto the symbols. Thankful that the headaches she had previously had meeting Wendy didn’t follow with them. As expected, it was harder to hide this piece from peering eyes and more than often she had caught curious glancing staring over and drifting away in concern.

If (Y/n) didn’t know any better, she’d say she was slowly starting to deteriorate her reputation in this school. She had to stop mid-work and flip the page to write down questions she was preparing to ask Bill. Not that she could actually take the journal into the Mindscape, as she had attempted many, many times. But going in and not wasting any time thinking of questions on the spot eased her nerves. The thought of conducting an interview with Bill, book in hand, legs crossed as they sat a foot away from each other was ridiculously amusing, more than it should have been. It nearly earned the softest giggle from (Y/n). Almost.

And with her distracted mind, time passed and lectures went on without her. Another horrid shrill of the bell signaled the end of second period, automatically beginning to count down until the third. It was an old system, she imagined as she winced, still not accustomed to the rough sound. She collected her belongings and slid them gently inside her satchel before standing up and joining the crowd of students ushering and squeezing past each other to reach the exist. It had taken some patience before the classroom became vacant and (Y/n) now roamed the halls, consistently glancing down at the room number she had written down on her phone.

In conclusion. (Y/n) had not payed a single second of her energy in class thus far. Not for the sake of being lazy or unmotivated. Simply... She had more pressing matters on her hand. Time was quickly racing against her, if not for the expiration date of the ingredients, but for the sake of her own sanity and comfort as well. 

_ “Just one last adventure, then it’s all over”_ she reassured herself, a few feet away from her next class.

A firm, cold hand snatched her wrist. In that moment, (Y/n) didn’t think of anything else other than turning around to face whoever grasped at her. As her hand remained still, neither pulling or struggling from the tight confinement. It (Y/n) a solid second, with her wide, unblinking (e/c) hues staring down into large pools of olive green.

She eased her agape mouth into a small smile, she was familiar with those eyes.

Wendy must have recognized her tense expression and released her wrist sheepishly, “sorry,” she rubbed the side of her arm sheepishly “I should’ve called out to you first, didn’t mean to scare you” her actions were mainly instinctive, seeing a familiar figure walk along the crows almost aimlessly to their next class. And she couldn’t help but seize the opportunity for another group member.

Chuckling softly, (Y/n) shook her head “no! No! You’re fine, I was just spacing off-- what’s up?” she readjusted her satchel strap, being smack in the center of the hallway didn’t seem like an ideal location to have a conversation, however this didn’t bother Wendy as much, or wide range of people following close behind her. “Ah, they must be friends” she thought. 

Wendy beamed, following (Y/n)’s gaze and looking over her shoulder “oh! I want you to meet a few friends of mine, they’re cool, trust me” she gestured towards a tall blond with shaggy, chin-length hair. His clothes flattered the summer season far more than the fall, and (Y/n) couldn’t hep but wonder if he got cold. “I want you to meet Lee!”

Lee responded with a wave “sup!”

Though before (Y/n) could give a response, Wendy continued further down the line. It was then that she figured it would be best to introduce herself when her fox-haired friend was finished.

“Tambry, we’ve been friends since we were like-- riding trikes!” Wendy waved about her hands enthusiastically, her freckled cheeks expanding in a smooth grin.

Tambry didn’t seem as excited, instead glancing down on her small phone, tapping away at the keyboard with such a striking speed. She did, however, take a moment to glance up past her short, brunette hair and skim over (Y/n) without much interest, or seemingly so. “Status update: Meeting the new girl” her fingers continued to type, though her eyes covered with dramatic makeup went back down to meet her screen.

“Nate,” Wendy gestured again, this time to a friend with a darker skin complexion. He was considerably taller than Tambry, though shorter than Lee. He wore warmer clothes than Lee, though it didn’t vary much other than jeans and a black t-shirt. Regardless, (Y/n) could only prepare to eventually confuse Nate for Nathan at some point in the future.

“Aaannnd Thompson!” Wendy finished with a small breath of hair, placing her hands delicately on her slim waist.

Thompson seemed very... Sweaty. Anxious more or less as (Y/n) noticed the small beads of body moisture beginning to freckle on his head. Still, he offered a warm grin and bid her a nice “hey! It’s uh-- it’s nice to meet you!” to reassure him, (Y/n) quickly returned one back, in hopes it would ease whatever nerves he had at the moment. He seemed well-dressed, both in the sense of appropriate clothing (not the knee-high shorts Lee has on) and in rather famous brands.

“Hey wait-- where’s Robbie?” beside her, Wendy frowned.

“Oh he’s taking a nap in the theater room” Tambry continued texting, responding with a slight peak of emotion ringing in her tone. Her eyes never left the screen.

“The... The theater room? Isn’t there a play or something?” (Y/n) raised a brow, the inquiry spilling out before she could think twice.

“Nah dude, there’s like-- a storage closet inside the theater room, no one really goes there anymore.” Lee satisfied her curiosity, leaving (Y/n) to lower her mouth in a slight “o” accompanied with an “ah” to show her understanding.

“Ugh,” Wendy groaned, rolling her olive-green eyes to the back of her skull for a long moment moment before grumbling something along the lines of “on the day we had plans.”

Tambry didn’t seem to pick up on her words, but if she did, she most certainty wasn’t planning to acknowledge them.

Feeling the sudden wave of tension, (Y/n) pursed her lips together and broke out into a sudden cheerful pitch “it’s very nice to meet all of you, though! My name is (Y/n)” her introduction seemed to go slightly ignored for the most part, it formed sticky awkward stir in her chest. 

Thompson never collected his nerves, it seems, his the obvious dampness leaking through his shirt made a fair point of that. He dangled a set of keys in the air-- car keys. “Hey uhm...” he began, his wrist no longer moving “if--if we wanna go, we uhm, we have to go now” his voice croaked terrible in fear? Concern? Or perhaps a hybrid mixture of both.

“Come on dude, don’t be a wuss!” Nate balled his hands into a loose fist and teasingly nudged Thompson, to which responded with a small “ow” and tenderly placed his large hand to soothe the now sore area. Lee chuckled along, Tambry lifted up her phone to take a quick snap of the scene, muttering something about another update in her social media.

“Right!” Snapping her fingers, Wendy turned towards (Y/n). This time, her thin lips wore a rather mischievous grin, though there was no trace of malice. “Do you want to skip this period and head over to the Mystery Shack? You wanted to go, right?” 

On the contrary, that was the very place she wanted to avoid.

Realizing the narrow time limit she had to answer. (Y/n) could only hum out a throaty long groan, she had never been one to miss classes unless they were for dire reasons. Mainly because the second her account was marked as “tardy” there was an immediate phone-call made to her parents which usually lead her into pretty unfair shit. Additionally, lunch followed soon after third period finished, which could put her Q&A with Bill on hold.

“Oh... I don’t know-” she finally responded, rubbing the side of her arm in a natural response.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Wendy pressed further “besides, you still owe me for canceling last time, remember?” her red brows furrowed together tightly, pointing an accusing pale finger towards (Y/n). She had her cornered, Wendy knew that much. And while constant rain-checks (albeit nothing last minute) never genuinely bothered her, the newest town addition seemed like a swell person to befriend. Wendy felt that instinct stir inside her gut, and listening to her intuition usually kept her out of trouble.

_ “Yeesh, talk about peer pressure” _(Y/n) thought to herself. Realizing that Wendy did indeed have a point. Not that she didn’t want to follow through with any of the previously made plans, she’d leap ten feet into the air just to take a moment away from her responsibilities and enjoy her life as an actual teenager. Not some sort of psychic or tackling on the role of a mother to young Nathan.

“Yeah come on, don’t be lame!” Nate pitched in.

“Status Update: New girl can’t make up her mind” 

“It’s now or never”  
  
That’s what (Y/n) usually told herself before tumbling head-first into something she shouldn’t be doing in the first place. In reality, there was no need to put much thought into her decision. It became subconsciously clear what she wanted the moment it was offered to her. It was only a matter of the little devil on her shoulder spoke above the pure angel. So far, the scales have been ridiculously tipped.

_ “What the hell” _she thought, a break was well-earned.

“You know what?” (Y/n) blurted “yeah! Why not?”

A round of approval waved around the group. Ranging from a couple of whoops and a small, celebratory cheer. Suddenly flustered, (Y/n) could only hope the group wouldn’t notice the immense heat that pooled in her cheeks and warmed the tips of her ears. She glanced away from them, not wanting to meet their eyes and give her away more than her body was betraying her.

It didn’t take the group long to leave as soon as possible, introductions took longer than Wendy had expected and now they only had two measly minutes to get from one side of the school to the next without being caught leaving. Not that it was much of a challenge. They naturally blended in well with the group who were making their painful way towards their next class. The high-school wasn’t ridiculously large either, which made their journey that much easier. But if there was one thing that made them stand out like a sore thumb was the constant horse-play Nate, Lee, and Thompson gave themselves into. (Y/n) found it to be rather annoying yet surprisingly entertaining. Far from charming, she’d safely say. And without any further hitches in the road, the group snuck their way outside though back doors.

They made quick work on ground. Briskly walking their way over to the school parking lot, mainly designated for teachers though the lot in itself was just about bare. So in the end, it didn’t matter much. And if (Y/n) hadn’t trusted Wendy as well as she does now (knowing she meant no harm), then she would have most definitely gave the busted, discolored blue minivan a second thought before squeezing her way towards the back. 

The car looked much nicer in the front than it did in the back; as the van peeled away and headed straight towards town, (Y/n) looked around the vandalized car silently whilst everyone else chatted about who knows what. Unknown liquids stained the seats, empty bags of potato chips leveled at her feet along with empty cans and plastic bottles, there was a certain grungy, rotten smell in general, and any hard surface was scribbled ink. Mainly offensive or crude sayings with a few doodles here and there, and sometimes even a few risque ones. However one stood out from the rest, in bright red ink it read:

“You look nice today!” 

(Y/n) smiled. It was cute. She had high doubts it was any of them who had left behind such a comment.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the Mystery Shack. With little to no traffic and knowing back-roads and short-cuts around the town. Thompson eventually pulled the mini-van into a gravel parking lot (or lack thereof). Each little snag tilted and rattled the van with a loud squeak and a large bounce. The others didn’t seem to mind, continuing their conversation, small jests, and overall rowdiness while (Y/n) struggled to keep herself in her seat. She reminded herself to strap on the seat-belt on their way back.

She swallowed thickly as the van doors slid open and Lee, Nate, and Tambry all emptied out the cushioned seats in-front of her. Again, she crawled over the seats and dusted herself off when her feet met with the ground. She wiped herself down and made sure none of the sticky residue made its way onto her clothes. Taking in a deep, slow breath, chilly late-morning air filled her lungs as (Y/n) took one good long look at the Mystery Shack.

It was quite literally as the name implied. Had the large sign balanced on the roof been removed, it could very well pass for an ordinary house so deep into the woods-- much like hers. There was nothing particularly amusing about the Shack, other than one of the letters of the signs has fallen off and instead reads “Mystery Hack.” And while (Y/n) definitely noticed aging in the wood and the front door having seen much more better days than it’s current stained, dirty state. She couldn’t deny the entire thing leaked of ambiance.

“Come on, dude! You’ve gotta meet someone-- he’s a bit of a goof but he grows on ya!” Wendy’s voice pulled her away. The others have already rushed inside, chanting “Snack M A C H I N E” on a loop, all besides Tambry, of course.

“Sounds fun!” was all (Y/n) could respond with, hoping, wishing, praying that Bill was right.

That this wasn’t where she’d split open her head and die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: This chapter is HIGHLY unedited, I didn't even put it through an editing software. I understand it looks very unattractive, I'll try to get to it when I can. In any case I hope you've enjoyed, I'm sorry for the inconvenience :')


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